The Cliffs of Icarus
by FindingDeliliah
Summary: Leah Clearwater drifts through life, unsure of how she feels about feeling nothing at all. All credit goes to Greeen Goldish.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight series that I oh so love and hate. ****Also, all rights of this fanfic go to Greeen Goldish. I am simply reposting it.****  
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Stifling

That's the word that summed up my existence.

I increasingly felt like I would never get out of our tiny little reservation. It was the same things every day—the same people, the same beaches, the same roads and houses and conversations. The same trees and smells and clouds and air. Sometimes it felt like something was pressing in on my chest, refusing to let me breathe. And when I finally did succeed in breathing, the air I inhaled was heavy and wet. It was like drowning, in the air. It was like the air _itself_ was pushing in on me. La Push was pushing in on me.

I was lying on my back in the dirt outside the school. Not because I have any special affinity for dirt, but because the grass was probably still damp. It was rare that the dirt had an opportunity to dry out completely, and it felt parched and warm on my back and, for once, I could _breathe_.

So I guess maybe I do have a special affinity for dirt.

I didn't like the idea of the dirt soiling my clothes so much as I liked the idea of it soiling my clothes and not _mattering_. Because nothing seemed to matter in La Push. Regardless of what I did, I would end up living in a small house like my parents. My job wouldn't matter. My friends wouldn't matter. Nothing would _change_.

So it was hard to care about anything.

I certainly didn't care about the dirt that smeared the back of my t-shirt and clung to my hair. I almost liked it. Because then it was like not caring was a benefit—like it was _good_. The fact that nothing mattered was good. The fact that everything would stay the same was good.

It made living easy.

So I watched the clouds as they drifted past, fluffy and white, for once. It wasn't the first sunny day in La Push and it wouldn't be the last, but it was uncommon. So it _almost_ mattered.

But not really.

"Leah!"

I started at the sound of my name, propping myself up on one elbow and looking around.

"Huh?" I mumbled drowsily.

"Over here!" Sasha called.

Sasha was behind me, near the school building, waving me over. I stood up and brushed the dirt from my jeans indifferently.

As I strode over to her, I could see that she was grinning. She obviously had something to tell me. I raised my eyebrows at her as I closed the distance between us, but she was silent until I was within reach, which was when she grabbed my arm and pulled me to her.

"Danny asked me to the bonfire this weekend!" she whispered excitedly.

"That's great," I said, a little confused. It wasn't like the bonfires were private functions. They were pretty much wide open, and pretty much everyone went. It wasn't like she needed an engraved invitation. "So, uh…does that mean it's…a date?" I felt stupid even asking it.

"I don't know! Do you think?" she squealed, as we pushed through the doors and into the bustling cafeteria. I preferred spending lunch outside when the weather was nice, like it was that day. It wasn't often that the clouds parted in La Push. I tried to take advantage of it when they did. But I could tell Sasha was dying to talk to me about Danny and analyze every syllable that had come out of his mouth. So I steeled myself.

"Well, what _exactly_ did he say?" I asked, pretty sure that was the appropriate response.

And that was all it took. The words gushed out of her the entire time we stood in the lunch line. I nodded my head as I plunked some Salisbury steak onto my tray. Then, I wrinkled my nose as I examined a small bowl of mashed potatoes, sniffing it.

"Well, you stuck your nose in it! Take it!" the cafeteria woman shouted at me. I grimaced at her in apology and dropped it on my tray, as Sasha continued chattering about the clothes she was going to wear at the bonfire on Saturday night.

It was only after we paid and were looking for a place to sit that Sasha stopped to take a breath. I realized I was supposed to have something relevant or helpful to say to her, so I began racking my brain, going back over everything I had just heard her say. But what did I know about boys? Not much, really.

_Nothing_, really.

Not that it mattered.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

That night, I lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling of my cramped room. Like every other night.  
The window was open, but it was hot. Our house was almost always hot, regardless of the temperature outside. Maybe just because I found the humidity so stifling. I would open my window an in effort to let out the heat, but it would let in the damp air. And it was late April, so the air out there wasn't all that cool anyway.

I was sticky, and my tank top felt damp, like everything else. My sheets felt damp. The room felt damp. The air was so god damned _damp._

I rolled out of bed and pulled on some jeans, thinking about how the only thing that mattered was that none of it mattered.

I let the screen door slam behind me as I left the house. And when the night air hit my face, it was like I could breathe for the first time in ages. I wasn't holed up in my stuffy room in that stuffy little house anymore.

I was alone.

Everyone was asleep.

It was quiet.

I was free.

I pulled the crushed pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and tucked the least shabby looking one into my mouth as I dug the lighter out of my other pocket.

I knew that smoking was bad for me. I knew that it was stupid. But I loved everything about smoking cigarettes. I loved the flicking sound of the lighter as the lick of fire burst from it. I loved the taste of the cigarette as I placed it between my lips. I loved the sweet smell of tobacco when I pressed my nose to a fresh pack. I loved the orange glow of a cigarette in the dark. And most of all, I loved the feeling of inhaling that dry smoke into my lungs slowly, savoring it. Then, I loved exhaling it slowly, in puffs. It was a ritual. It was beautiful. And there was nothing damp about it.

So I walked, smoking that cigarette like it was the last cigarette on earth. I didn't know where I was walking to, at first. I just wandered, listening to the crickets and thinking about nothing. Nothing but those crickets and that glorious cigarette.

I perched the cigarette from my lips and shoved my hands in my pockets and threw my head back, looking at the sky as I walked. It didn't matter if I watched where I was going. There was nothing in front of me. And if I tripped, no one would see.

Nothing mattered.

So I stared at the stars, my head slung back, wandering forward, one foot in front of the other. I would close my lips around the cigarette to inhale and then open the side of my mouth to exhale.  
It was uncharacteristically clear that night. And I tried to spot the stars Dad had pointed out to me as a  
child as he wove the Quileute legends.

I couldn't remember them.

When I grew bored of pondering my own insignificance in the universe, I tipped my head back down and looked straight ahead. I had veered off course some.

Not that I had a course.

But that was when I realized where I was headed.

Despite suddenly having a destination, I meandered. I took my time. I reveled in the silence and the solitude and the knowledge that no one knew where I was or what I was doing.

I did a cartwheel, cigarette still dangling in my mouth.

For no reason at all.

Then, when I dusted off my hands, I headed for the cliffs.

The cliffs were my albatross. My siren. My Everest.

I had watched the boys jump off of those cliffs for years. Even as a little girl, I was mesmerized by the way men would leap from them as if they could fly, running, running, running and then _flying_ before diving into that water. It was all so deliberate. They weren't _falling_ back to the earth. They were_ diving_ back to the earth. They were bending their bodies, their instincts, and the earth to their will. They were commanding the ground beneath them and the air between them and the water under them. Their bodies were merely the vessels for their freedom.

It drove me _wild_.

Because it was everything I wanted.

But I was terrified.

I had always been terrified of heights. Mom thinks it's because Jacob Black shoved me from a diving board when we were little. I hit the water at an awkward angle and became disoriented. By the time I knew which way was up, I had swallowed my fair share of the pool. And I was pretty sure I was  
drowned.

Until I heard Jacob Black laughing.

That was probably the day Jacob Black started irritating the shit out of me.

When I got to the cliffs, I walked out to the very edge. I tried to peer over it without actually _leaning_ over it. It was enough for me to see the water that was _almost_ directly below me. I didn't need to look _straight_ down.

It still made me nervous, so I sat down quickly, crossing my legs beneath me. I could handle sitting on the edge, with my weight close to the ground. That was easy. Plus, there was a great view of the ocean.

And the salty air was almost dry.

Sometimes I swear the water at First Beach is dryer than the air. The water is at least salty. When I swim in it, it makes my hair coarse when it dries, almost like the mane of a horse. My hair will never be as coarse as that of white girls, though. I used to watch those commercials on TV about how using hair products and blow dryers and curling irons and things were bad for hair—that they dried it out and damaged it. The commercials were for shampoos that were supposed to restore that "healthy sheen." But I wasn't interested in the shampoo. My hair always had that shiny gloss that made it look almost wet. So I used to do all of those things that would supposedly damage it. I would blow dry it and then try curling it and teasing it—anything to make it lighter than it really was. But my hair would always be heavy, shapeless, and smooth. Like water.

I stubbed out my cigarette on the cool rock surface beneath me. I was going to shove the butt into my pocket, because Dad always taught me to love the earth and not to litter. But I really wanted to flick that cigarette butt over that cliff. And I couldn't convince myself to care enough not to. So I flicked it with a precision that comes only with years of practice flicking cigarettes. It was another part of the ritual that I enjoyed. And as I watched what was left of the last cigarette on earth sail down and down and down toward the water, I regretted that cigarettes only had the courtesy to glow orange when someone had the courtesy to inhale their smoke. Because I would have liked to have seen that orange light fall down the side of that cliff into that water.

As it was, it disappeared behind the cliff before I could see it hit the water, anyway.

Then, I sighed, before pulling the crushed package of cigarettes back out of my pocket. But that time, I tapped it in my palm lightly, corralling the few cigarettes left toward the opening. Once they were obedient, I dug in with my index finger until I found what I was _really_ looking for. I tilted the package, then, until the joint slid out into my open palm.

The only thing better than breathing in the warm, dry smoke of tobacco was breathing in the warm, dry smoke of pot.

After I lit it and sucked in that first lovely breath, I released it slowly; deliberately. Then, I fell back to the stone slab that had become my bed.

I knew I wasn't going to be doing any cliff diving that night. I closed my eyes and did some visualizations. I imagined the running and the jumping. Yet, even as I imagined it, my brain made the Leah in my mind's eye hesitate, when she got near the edge. This was tragic for Imaginary Leah, because she ended up tripping over the edge of the cliff instead of leaping over it. Which meant she didn't put enough space between herself and the cliff, scraping against it on the way down, and falling onto the rocks below, where the crashing waves threw her already mangled body against the cliff face, bludgeoning her even further.

So I took another drag and started over.

The second time, Imaginary Leah hesitated again, but caught herself. Only it was too late. She caught the edge of the cliff with her hands after she had already fallen over the edge, so she clung to it, dangling above the water and the rocks. But she couldn't hold on. She clawed helplessly for a moment before losing her grip entirely and hurdling down to the rocks below. That time, she fell head first into a large, jagged rock, cracking her skull in half, blood and brain matter exploding into the water around her.

So I took another deep drag, exhaling slowly.

I bucked up Imaginary Leah. I told her she could do it. I told her she just needed to not think about the water. She needed to concentrate on running, and leaping, and flying. Then, I told her she was imaginary, so it wasn't a big deal if she failed.

Funny how things almost seemed to matter more for Imaginary Leah than me.

On her third attempt, Leah finally made it. Not only did she survive it, but she also executed the most beautiful and exquisite swan dive ever performed by anyone, imaginary or otherwise.

I was proud of Imaginary Leah.

And hopelessly jealous.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

When I heard the footsteps coming toward me, I didn't bother opening my eyes. I knew it was Sasha. Sasha was the only person who ever sought me out at the end of the football field, where I smoked during the lunch period. And she probably just wanted to gush some more about Danny. I hoped that if I kept my eyes shut, she would decide to sit down and soak up the silence with me.

"Bum a smoke?"

My eyes flew open and I sat up, startled. Because it wasn't Sasha.

It was Sam Uley.

And I hated Sam Uley.

I had absolutely no reason to hate Sam Uley, other than the fact that he was incredibly good looking. I tended to have an irrational disdain for attractive guys—feeling like they assumed that I was interested in them, and that they were too good for me. Actually, even if they didn't think they were too good for me, I was still bugged that they always assumed I was interested.

Of course, there was no way of knowing whether they _actually_ assumed I was interested in them. It was just a feeling I always got. And before I knew it, I was self conscious even making eye contact with them. I had no desire to feed their egos or let them perceive me as yet another groupie.

Like I said: completely irrational.

And Sam Uley was the worst one. Because Sam Uley was like a living, breathing, hunky high school bad boy cliché. He was the kind of chiseled beauty that was almost painful to look at, because it made you feel inadequate and uncomfortable. He was kind of a loner, and it was unclear if it was because he actually thought he was better than everyone else, or if everyone else was just intimidated by him. Or maybe he was just a loner because he fit the stereotype _that_ well.

So it was a little surprising, to say the least, when I realized he was the one standing over me. And I cursed the fact that he had caught me off guard, because I began stammering, and I'm sure that he chalked that up to my being too awestruck by his god damned beauty to be able to speak coherently.  
"Uh. Yeah. Um. Here," I said, handing him the package that was lying next to me.

He looked at it for a second and cocked his head, which I thought was kind of weird. Was he going to complain about the brand or something? When I was bumming him a cigarette?

"Are these supposed to be ironic?" he asked.

And then I realized what he was asking about. Because I was smoking American Spirits. Which is practically the equivalent of killing puppies in La Push.

American Spirit cigarettes have nothing to do with American Indians. The company isn't owned or operated by American Indians. It's not some sort of American Indian tobacco. Yet the label on the package features a stereotypical looking Indian smoking out of a stereotypical peace pipe.

"Uh. No," I stammered. "I mean…I guess… Kind of. It's…hard to explain."

"Try me," he said, tapping a cigarette into his hand. He looked back at me, then and spoke again, before I could answer. "This is your last one."

"It's fine. Take it," I said. I was going to have to get more on the way back from school anyway.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

Then, he stuck the cigarette between his lips before meandering over to a nearby trash can and tossing in the empty package. I thought my interaction had thus concluded with Sam Uley at that point, but just as I was breathing a sigh of relief, he turned and walked back toward me as he lit the cigarette. As he inhaled, his eyes returned to mine. I stared at him, determined not to look away. He raised his eyebrows at me and exhaled a smooth cloud of smoke.

"So?" he asked.

"Huh?"

I was squinting up at him and shading my eyes with my hand, because he stood over me unapologetically, the sun behind him.

"The irony. You were gonna explain it."

"Oh." I looked at my hands then, despite my determination. Because it was really hard to look him in the eye as I tried to explain why I smoked cigarettes that were kind of exploitative. "Um. I guess because…_fuck_ it. Because…what does it matter?" I asked, glancing back up at him.

I wasn't going to let him intimidate me. And I _sure_ as hell wasn't going to flirt.

But then…he grinned.

It was the type of grin that made me want to gouge out my eyes. Because it was so charming. I could feel everything inside of me rising up against my determination to _not_ be attracted to his chiseled face and broody eyes and dimpled smile.

It was _awful_.

I think I actually winced.

But Sam just plopped down next to me, like we were the oldest of friends. Like it was perfectly natural for him to invade my smoking spot.

Eventually, he lay back in the dirt and closed his eyes.

I sat there and fumed about how he bummed my last cigarette and made himself at home, scowling at his perfect eyelashes as we both smoked our cigarettes in silence.

When he finally finished, he stood and brushed the dirt from his jeans just before flicking his cigarette butt into the trash. Then, he looked at me and grinned.

"Thanks for the smoke, Leah," he said, just before turning on his heel and walking back toward the school.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

I may not have cared much about dating, but I _was_ a teenage girl, susceptible to all of the normal adolescent thoughts and urges.

So, while I didn't have any illusions about Sam Uley wanting anything other than a cigarette from me that afternoon, I wasn't impervious to his beauty. There's no way I wasn't going to see that grin replayed in my head a hundred times that day, every time I closed my eyes.

It was disgusting how much I liked that he had smiled at me, and that he had said my_ name_. I mean, it's really not that significant that he knew my name. It wasn't like La Push was a big place. Everyone knew everyone's names, for the most part. But I don't think Sam Uley and I had ever spoken to one another. Maybe because neither he nor I really spoke a whole lot to _anyone_.

So when I went to bed that night, it was like any other night, in that I couldn't sleep. I thought about going back to the cliffs. But when I shut my eyes, I saw that smile again. And it wasn't just that smile. Everything about Sam Uley was molded in a way that the heat of my resentment for him and disgust with myself was matched only by the heat of my want. I envisioned the way his arms were perfectly sculpted and the way his t-shirt fit taut across his chest, hinting at how perfectly sculpted it was as well. And even though it was no mystery that Sam Uley's body was flawless, thanks to many days of watching the boys go cliff diving, the t-shirt somehow made the blood in my veins run even hotter. Knowing what was under there and not seeing it made me crazy.

I knew if I ran my finger over his skin, it would be smooth and warm. But it wouldn't be soft. Nothing about Sam Uley was soft.

And as I imagined running my hand over that grey t-shirt and feeling the muscles that bound him together into the sleek and imperfection-less object of my disdain, my hand dipped down into my shorts…

…and I wondered if it was going to be anything like hate sex.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two  


**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Twilight characters because if I did, Leah Clearwater would have been the main character. Also, all rights of this fanfic go to Greeen Goldish. I am simply reposting it.****  
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"I can't wait until the bonfire," Sasha squealed. We were sitting in homeroom, waiting for classes to begin. "You're coming right?"

"Huh?" I asked, turning toward her. I had been staring absently at the way some kind of coating was peeling off the square of linoleum just under my shoe. "Oh." I felt bad for being such a terrible listener.

"Uh. I guess I hadn't thought about it."

"Really? I mean, it's not like you have other plans, right?"

Sasha was pretty much my only friend. We had grown up together, and we were close. But as we got older, it became clear that our shared childhood was the only thing we had in common. Sasha was bubbly and happy and social. I was quiet and more reserved and moody. She never held any of it against me, but she did give me a hard time about the smoking.

I never tried explaining why I really smoked to her.

I loved Sasha. People never understood how we could be friends. But it felt like she balanced me out. It felt like when I was being crazy, she was the one keeping me sane. She didn't let me get too dark and cynical, but she made me feel useful, too, because I didn't let her get too idealistic and naïve. I'm really not sure either of us would have been able to function in society normally if not for the other. Sasha was so optimistic and trusting that she would have been taken advantage of dozens of times if I hadn't been around to look out for her. But I woulda missed out on a lot of life and fun if not for her. She let me be me, but she made sure I went to things like bonfires. She made sure I actually interacted with people. If not for her, I wouldn't have had anyone to buy weed from.

"You're not even a little excited?" she asked.

"Uh. It's just a bonfire, right? We've probably been to hundreds. They're the only thing that ever happens around here. Why's this one so special?" I asked. And as soon as the words left my lips, I realized I was being a terrible friend. Because that particular bonfire _was _different for Sasha. Because Danny had invited her to it. In true Sasha fashion, though, she didn't let my pessimism get her down.

"Oh, don't be such a sourpuss. It's better than sitting in your living room and watching old movies by ourselves for the eight millionth time."

"You're right. I'm sorry. You know how I am in the mornings," I said, trying to make amends. "What are you going to wear?"

"I don't know. I was thinking about jeans and that new t-shirt I got online—that blue one. Because it's a pretty casual function, right? I'm gonna try to look understated hot."

I smiled. Because understated hot probably summed up Sasha. She wasn't flashy, but she was beautiful. She didn't realize it, but guys noticed her. She was convinced that the boys were all too busy checking out the girls in the miniskirts and high heels to notice her, but it wasn't true. I think a lot of the guys actually preferred Sasha to the girls in the miniskirts. But I think the girls in the miniskirts were less intimidating for the guys to hit on. Or maybe that was just a theory that believing in made navigating high school easier.

"That sounds excellent. That t-shirt is really cute. You should come over Saturday and we can get ready together."

That was Leah code for 'come to my house and pick out my clothes and do my makeup because I'm too lazy for that stuff.' Sasha knew that's what it meant, but it was OK, because she loved filling that role for me. In fact, she was grinning as soon as I said it.

"Yay! Thanks, Leah!"

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

When the lunch bell rang, I snuck outside for a smoke, since it wasn't raining. Really, I think that's the _real _reason Sasha hated that I smoked—because it meant I wasn't always around to gossip with at lunch.

When I found my favorite patch of dirt, I was a little miffed that it wasn't entirely dry, so I sat down cross legged instead of stretching out. It was a spot on the far side of the football field among a few trees, just far enough from the building that the teachers couldn't see unless they were _really _looking. I preferred it to the spot behind the gym, where it tended to get crowded. Plus, the faculty occasionally felt motivated and actually went back there to give people detentions.

I had my head down, lighting the cigarette perched from my lips when I heard the footsteps again. I looked up as I inhaled.

Sure enough, it was Sam Uley.

Again.

And he was still perfect.

I released the smoke from my lungs smoothly and then spoke, before he had the opportunity to turn me into a stammering mess.

"Still too cheap to buy your own smokes?" I asked. Because it was weird that he had sought me out again.

"Nah," he said, shaking his head and sitting down next to me, as if I had invited him to do so. Because perfect people are entitled like that-presuming their presence is welcome. I was a bit confused about why he was there, though, as he pulled a pack of Reds out of his pocket. "Isn't this the designated smoking section?" he asked, looking around like he was lost.

I tried not to smile. I think I managed a smirk.

"Actually, I believe the designated smoking section is behind the gym."

He laughed.

"Yeah. I know. They busted us back there on Monday. I'm trying to keep my head down," he explained, just before flicking his lighter and taking that first magical breath of our shared addiction.

"Ohhhh."

It finally made sense—why he was mooching my smoke spot.

"Why? Am I bugging you?" he asked, seemingly genuine. But I probably stared at his full lips and high cheek bones and dark brown eyes and long, black hair for a wildly inappropriate amount of time before answering, because he was _that _distracting.

"Uh. No. I just… Most people don't notice me all the way out here."

He didn't respond then, other than to smile. So I looked away and concentrated on smoking my cigarette. And even though I pretended to be watching some birds in a tree over on the perimeter of the property, I could tell from the corner of my eye that he was still looking at me. And it was making me _really _uncomfortable.

Until it started to make me a little angry, because only a guy like Sam Uley could stare at a girl so unabashedly, without a drop of self consciousness. It smacked of that same entitlement that allowed him to feel totally comfortable in usurping my space. So I steeled myself and looked back at him.

"What?" I demanded.

"Nothing. I was gonna see if you needed to bum a smoke from me, seeing as I took your last one yesterday. But I see you got more."

"Yeah," I said perfunctorily, flicking some ashes. "Thanks, though."

"Where do you even get these?" he asked, picking up the American Spirits sitting next to me. Like I

wanted his hands all over my cigarettes. "They don't sell them on the rez, do they?"

"No. I go to Forks for them."

The laugh that burst from his lips then was so loud and so sudden that I jumped a little. His long, black hair slid back from his shoulders to his back as he threw his head back and continued laughing. With wide eyes, I watched his Adam's apple pulse in his exposed throat, completely mesmerized. I closed my eyes briefly, realizing it was the image I would probably carry with me for the rest of _that _day, which was irritating.

"Are you kidding me? You go all the way to Forks for smokes just to be politically incorrect?" he asked, still laughing.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"It's not just to be politically incorrect."

"You said yesterday it's because you don't care. But you gotta care an awful lot to drive _that _far just to smoke _this _brand to piss people off."

"It's…not just to piss people off!"

"No?" he asked, cocking a skeptical eyebrow. And it's possible that cocked eyebrow would rival the bobbing Adam's apple in my mind's eye that day.

"No. I mean, not exactly. I just…I think it's silly to focus on something as stupid as the picture that some dumb company puts on a pack of cigarettes when there's bigger issues to worry about. Like the fact that there's so few economic opportunities for Indians and the fact that alcoholism and domestic violence are so rampant and that we used to be so self sufficient as a people and now so many reservations depend on casinos for revenue. The way our sovereignty is abused in ways that let Indians get away with what would otherwise be crimes; the way our sovereignty doesn't actually mean shit. So I don't really care about the label on the cigarettes. I'm tired of people wasting their time and energy on something so stupid. I'm tired of other Americans thinking that the biggest problem plaguing Indian society is the fact that Washington has a football team called the Redskins. So _fuck it_. I'm gonna smoke these cigarettes and maybe it's a little ironic. But really, it's because I don't care. It doesn't _matter_."

As soon as the words finished spilling out of me, my first instinct was to feel embarrassed. But I tried pressing that feeling back down. I didn't want him to see my embarrassment. And I didn't want to _be _embarrassed.

Plus, I was increasingly convinced that Sam Uley was so beautiful that he was probably also dumb as a rock. My little rant wasn't exactly articulate, but it was probably more profound than anything that had ever passed through his head.

When he squinted at me and nodded slowly, exhaling another smooth stream of smoke, it was like he was confirming my suspicions about his intellect—as if he was struggling to wrap his brain around something that was actually not that hard to grasp.

We sat in silence for a while after that. He didn't look at me again. He planted the palms of his hands on the dirt behind him and leaned back, legs outstretched before him, ankles crossed. The cigarette still dangled from his mouth, and he looked like what _should _have been on that damn American Spirits package.

I picked at the plastic on my pack of cigarettes, keeping my eyes trained on the spirals of cellophane that floated to my lap as I pulled them free. When I kept my head bowed to concentrate on what I was doing, my hair fell between my face and my future masturbation material, which made the whole situation slightly more manageable.

It felt like fifty years passed in the few minutes it took us to smoke those cigarettes. I didn't look up from my lap until I heard him make a move to stand up. I was dangerously close to smoking the filter on mine, so it was a relief when he finally finished his. When I looked up to see him standing over me, it was the first time he acknowledged me following my outburst.

"Don't worry," he said, the beginnings of a smile threatening to curl the corners of those beautiful lips, causing one perfect dimple to appear. "I won't tell anyone."

"Huh?"

"I won't tell anyone that it's because you actually care _too much_."

Then, he _winked_, just before turning and walking away.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

That night, I was determined not to indulge all of the longings Sam Uley incited. It was as if I was trying to rebel against _him _and how attracted to him I involuntarily felt. It pissed me off. But I wasn't sure I was succeeding in punishing anyone other than myself.

So I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, concentrating on _not _feeling the blood pulsing in my wrists.

It wasn't as if I was depressed, or had low self esteem. I had no desire to kill myself. I didn't _care _enough about anything for that to even cross my mind.

But sometimes, as I lay in bed, I could feel that hot blood coursing through my wrists as if the blood itself was alive and dissenting from the rest of my body. It was like there was a warmth emanating from _just _those veins, crying out to be loosed to the world.

Rationally, slitting one's wrists is probably not the best way to commit suicide. I'm sure there are more effective and less painful ways.

Yet I knew that that's how I would do it.

I would drag the razor up my veins, parallel with the length of my arm.

When I closed my eyes, I could feel the razor. But more than that, I could feel the blood spilling out, thick and warm and _fast_.

Triumphant.

Maybe it was because my blood felt stifled, too.

So when the insomnia was even worse than usual and I was failing miserably at _not _envisioning Sam Uley's wink and Imaginary Leah had bled all over the bathroom floor a few times, I returned to the cliffs. I didn't have any pot left, but I could at least sit in the open air and smoke cigarettes. There was something both soothing and invigorating about the smell of cigarettes mingled with the smell of the salty ocean air.

When I sat down on the edge of the cliff that night, I scooted close to the edge. When no one was watching, it was OK for me to take baby steps. So after peering _very _briefly over the edge, I leaned back and my lips tightened around my cigarette. But then, I squeezed my eyes shut and unfolded one leg out from under me. With my eyes closed, I couldn't see where I was. I tried to convince myself I was just on a park bench, and hanging my leg over the edge would be no different than having my feet dangle from a park bench, like when I was a kid. I told myself that it wasn't as if there was some extra gravitational pull sucking me down into the water from the cliff.

Still, I was probably leaning pretty far back when I finally succeeded in getting both legs to hang over the edge.

Once I did it, though, it wasn't too hard to sit there as if it _was _just another park bench. It was almost _too _easy, and I made a mental note to never come to the cliffs drunk.

I didn't look at the stars that night. It was too cloudy. And frankly, I didn't want to look up and get vertigo and then spill forward and die. (Imaginary Leah had actually plummeted to her death in an astounding variety of ways since my last trip to the cliffs.) So I settled for looking out at the ocean, which wasn't much less overwhelming than looking up at the universe.

Either way, I was pretty insignificant.

And it was still both comforting and alarming.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

On Friday, it was raining. I wanted a cigarette so bad by lunch time that I contemplated braving it and just standing in the rain at the end of the football field. I cursed the fact that I was too broke to have a car, as many of the other smokers had surreptitiously relocated to their vehicles in order to smoke without getting drenched. I would have asked Sasha to use her car, but she didn't allow smoking in it.

I had to go without.

It was torturous.

Even worse was the fact that after lunch, I had to go to the guidance counselor's office without my nicotine fix.

Or a plan.

"Leaaah," she purred, as I sat in her office, staring at my hands.

Ms. Call was very new age and laid back. She wore too much red lipstick and she always had three or four pens stuck in her ponytail, which was always the last place she looked for a pen. She was also very determined to get me to see the light—which, to her, was going to college far, far away. I think I had worn her down to the point that she didn't have huge aspirations for me. I think she probably would have been happy if I compromised on a technical school or a community college, by that point. But I was only a junior. So I was still refusing to even think about it. And even though the year was winding down, I wanted to enjoy one last summer without worrying about that stuff. Because what would any of it matter, anyway? I wasn't a good student. I wasn't going to throw away a bunch of money on a degree that wouldn't get me a better job on the rez. It wasn't like there _were _any jobs on the rez. But I couldn't move away. Ms. Call just didn't realize that. I wondered what it was like for her, having a job that most students found irrelevant. Most students' _parents _even found her irrelevant. Higher education wasn't a huge priority on the rez.

"What did you think of those brochures that I gave you last time?" she asked.

She had phrased it in a way that assumed I had looked at them.

We both knew she had done that on purpose.

"Um. They were great," I said, staring at the plain silver ring I was spinning around my ring finger.

The truth was, the brochures had been sitting on the desk in my room for a month, completely untouched.

"Could you be a little more specific?" she pressed.

I sighed and looked up at her then.

"They all seemed…a little…expensive."

"Oh, Leah!" she protested. "I told you-there's scholarships available. Don't sell yourself short. You're a bright girl. And you're a member of a federally recognized tribe. The government will give you financial aid based on that fact alone-no strings attached."

"I know," I mumbled, my eyes returning to my hands. "I'm going to work on applications this summer."

"Where do you think you're going to apply?"

She wasn't going to let me off the hook. So I started lying.

"Um. I'll apply to U Dubb. And Olympic. And the community college in Seattle. I think I'd like Seattle."

"Really? That's fantastic!" she cried. "Do you know what you might want to study? That could really help in narrowing down where you want to apply. Although I think you should apply to no fewer than three schools."

"Um. Maybe English."

It was the only subject I did remotely well in. But the truth was, I couldn't imagine myself doing much of anything other than waiting tables or bagging groceries.

Maybe some people found that sad. But I didn't. I grew up with blue collar parents who worked hard every day to provide for us. And we never had a big house or anything like that, but there was no shame in it. And my little brother, Seth, and I were always happy. I'm pretty sure my parents were always happy, too. They didn't need flashy cars or people to order around. Mom had her books and Dad had his fishing and we all had each other and the rest of the tribe. Sure, I was kind of a loner. But I was still a Quileute. I still went to the bonfires and the fish fries and life was…simple. But not bad.

Really, I found it kind of insulting that Ms. Call felt that I needed to aspire to leave La Push. I didn't need some expensive degree and a bunch of lessons on how to be an overeducated, egotistical misanthrope to know my own worth.

"What do you think you'll do with that?" Ms. Call asked, twirling a loose strand of her hair around a finger as she leaned over the desk and looked at me expectantly. It was clear she was trying to force me to think about my future. She didn't realize I already had.

"Um. Teach?"

"Really? You want to be a teacher?"

"Sure."

"Leah!"

"Hm?"

"Are you just telling me what you think I want to hear! ?"

"No?"

"Leah!"

"Sorry! I didn't get a chance to look at the brochures. I… I'll look at them when I get home tonight, I swear."

"You're going to research colleges on a Friday night? I'm not falling for it, Leah."

"You might be surprised. It's not like the rez has a whole lot to offer a teenage girl socially."

"Don't you ever leave the rez?" she asked, leaning back in her chair, her brow furrowed.

I shrugged, figuring I shouldn't admit that I mostly only left to buy cigarettes.

"Sometimes."

"Don't you ever _want _to leave the rez? See what else is out there? I mean, it's fine if you think you want to

settle here, Leah. But you're young! You need to see the world!"

I shrugged again. Then, I began wondering if she gave this speech to all the apathetic, adolescent Quileutes. I knew I wasn't the only one.

"Do you say that to everyone who comes in this office?" I asked.

"No! Leah, you have a lot of unrealized potential. I see that in you. You're not destined to waste your life away!"

"Is that what you consider staying in La Push? Wasting life?"

"No! I just… There's lots of opportunities out there for a girl like you. I don't want to see you throw them all away, if you're going to regret it later."

"I don't think I'll regret it," I said.

"How do you know? The thing about regret is that you don't know you're going to feel it until you do."

"I never regret much of anything."

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

That evening, Sasha came to our house, as planned. And after my mom had forced a cookie into her hand and my dad had inflicted one of his terrible jokes on her, we ducked into my room. I collapsed onto the bed and watched, as she began her routine, dumping a bag full of junk that I couldn't even comprehend on the carpet in front of my floor length mirror. Then, she sat and began sorting through it carefully, pulling out various brushes and compacts and god knows what else.

"I think you should wear that halter top you got in Port Angeles last time," she said, as she leaned forward, peering into the mirror and applying the first of many layers of whatever it was. Her skin was much paler than mine, so she could wear a lot of the makeup marketed to white girls. "It's warm tonight."

"Yeah, but we're gonna be on the water," I said, running my hand through my hair and examining my split ends absently.

"Yeah, but there'll be a bonfire."

"I guess. You're the boss," I said, flicking the hair back over my shoulder. Then, I rolled onto my stomach and turned on the clock radio so that we could listen to some mediocre music, at least, while we got ready. Or while I watched Sasha get ready.

"I'm putting eyeliner on you tonight, just so you know. You look amazing with eyeliner."

"OK, Boss. Just make sure you take it off of me at the end of the night, unless you want me to forget and sleep in it."

"With any luck, I won't be coming home with _you_, tonight."

That's when I sat up.

"_What_?"

"Hopefully, I'll be going home with Danny."

"What do you _mean _'going home' with Danny? He lives with his parents."

"Oh, hush. You know what I mean. I'm just hoping we'll leave the bonfire together. I don't care where we actually go."

"Are you gonna have _sex _with him?"

It wasn't that I was a prude. It was just that I knew Sasha was a virgin. And even though she and I had never really discussed losing our virginities, it never crossed my mind that Sasha might be the lose-it-on-a-whim-in-the-back-of-a-truck kind of girl.

Me?

Maybe.

Sasha?

No.

"_No_," she said, her hair whirling around as her head snapped in my direction, her eyes wide with disbelief. "But that doesn't mean we can't have a little _fun_."

"Oh," I said, relaxing my posture some. "So, uh… You're gonna leave me stranded?"

"I'll give you the keys to my car, just in case. You can drive it back if I'm not around."

"Oh. OK. Just…be careful, OK?"

"I always am!" she said, grinning and turning back to the mirror. "What about you?"

"Huh?"

"Who are you eyeing lately? There's gotta be someone."

"Nope. No one."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight series and The Host, for I wish I owned both. I do not take credit for this fanfic, I am simply reposting it. All credit goes to the lovely,**** Greeen Goldish, who made me cry and laugh when I originally read this fanfic. I still cry every time I read this. **

* * *

When we got to the bonfire, a lot of people had already gathered. We both scanned the crowd for Danny, since Sasha was supposed to be "with" him that night, but he hadn't arrived. I was a little relieved, seeing as I didn't exactly want to be a third wheel right from the jump.

I guess it didn't really matter, anyway. It was only a matter of time before I wandered off.

Sasha and I positioned ourselves with our backs to the water, so that we could monitor the arrivals. All the makeshift driftwood benches were taken, so we ended up sitting in the sand. Fortunately, it was at least dry.

"Do you think it's a little rude of him to not be here yet?" Sasha asked nervously. She was probably more nervous about suggesting that someone was perhaps rude than she was about anything else. Sasha never spoke ill of anyone. "I mean, it's pretty late."

We had taken a while getting ready, seeing as Sasha had to do all of the work for both of us, one at a time. She spent longer than I thought possible on me, considering I nixed most of the stuff she wanted to do. Yet we still managed to arrive before Danny.

"Nah. Give him a few more minutes. He'll be here soon, I bet," I said, pulling my cigarettes out of my pocket as Sasha wrinkled her nose.

And that was the moment my eye caught Sam Uley's, as he had just arrived and was greeting the others who were between the bonfire and the parking lot. He was far enough away that I wanted to pretend he couldn't see me looking at him, but I realized that I could see _him _looking at _me_, and _I _was the one lit up by the blaze of the fire.

"What's _that _about?" Sasha whispered.

"Huh?" I asked, tearing my eyes from Sam and turning to her as I focused on lighting my cigarette. It took me a couple of tries, but I finally got a flame to burst from my lighter and I inhaled deeply.

"_Leah_. What was that little exchange that just happened between you and Sam Uley?"

I turned my face away from her to exhale the cloud of smoke before returning my eyes to hers.

"Huh? Nothing."

"Liar! Oh my god! I think you two just totally eye fucked each other!" she whispered excitedly.

"Nah. That wasn't it. We just… He's probably looking for someone to bum a smoke from or something."

"What are you _talking _about? That was _not _what that was."

"Sure it was. We smoke together. That's it."

"_What_?"

"He bummed a smoke from me at lunch the other day. And we smoke together. That's all. And it was only twice. I haven't talked to him since like Wednesday."

"_What_? How did you not tell me this! ? You _talked _to him?"

"Uh. Yeah. I didn't tell you about it because it wasn't a big deal. I think he's kind of…"

"What?"

I was going to say 'dumb,' but I wasn't as sure. Not after his parting words to me on Wednesday.

"…an ass. I think maybe he's too hot for his own good."

"He's too hot for _anyone's _good."

Then, as if planted by God himself to save me from that conversation, Danny appeared in front of us.

"Hey girls," he said. "How's it going?"

"Good!" Sasha said, standing up. I ashed my cigarette before I stood to talk with them. But I didn't hear what they were saying. I was too busy looking over Danny's shoulder at Sam, who was talking to a couple of seniors.

And because I have horrendous luck, he glanced up and caught me looking at him _again_, at just that moment.

I looked away quickly, but I was fairly certain that right before I did, he smiled at me. The problem was, I couldn't tell if it was a friendly smile or an I'm-amused-at-how-obvious-you-are-about-wanting-in-my-pants smile.

"Uh, I'm gonna go for a walk," I blurted, interrupting whatever Danny was saying. He looked surprised, but Sasha didn't. She probably figured I was trying to give the two of them alone time. Really, I was just trying to get out of Sam fucking Uley's eyeline.

"OK… Have fun," Danny said. And because I'm extremely rude, I spun on my heel without even saying goodbye and took off toward the water.

Just as I predicted, it was significantly cooler on the water, away from the bonfire, and I cursed the fact that I had let Sasha talk me into the halter top. Despite it, though, I slid off my flip flops and rolled up my jeans so that I could walk along the surf.

"Hey, Leah! Wait up!"

I spun around then to see Jacob Black.

"What do _you _want?" I asked. Jacob was a freshman and, since the day he had shoved me off the diving board, he had never ceased being a pain in my ass.

"Aw, man. You really know how to make a guy feel welcome."

Our fathers were friends, so we actually saw each other pretty frequently. I actually really missed Jacob's older sisters. Rachel was off at college and Rebecca had married young and moved to Hawaii. I was never as close to them as I was to Sasha, but the Blacks were like extended family. So Rebecca and Rachel were kind of like older sisters.

And Jacob was kind of like the annoying little brother I never signed up for. I already had Seth for that.

"Jake, you shouldn't even be here. How old are you? Twelve?"

"Shut up! Isn't Seth here?"

"No! Seth _is _only twelve."

"So? It's just a bonfire, Leah. Lighten up."

"Right. And that's just soda that those guys have in coolers over there. And I'm sure those are just cigarettes the kids down by the cliffs are smoking."

"Huh?"

"Nothing! Never mind. What do you want?" I asked, picking up my flip flops and strolling away from crowd of people.

"I was wondering if you and Sasha could give me a ride home tonight."

"What? How did you get here?"

"Quil's mom gave us a ride," he mumbled.

I laughed.

"Does that mean Embry and Quil need a ride home, too?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Fine. But we're leaving when either Sasha or I decide to leave. If you miss the bus, that's your problem."

"Great! Thanks, Leah!"

Then, he turned and jogged back to the crowd.

I returned my attention to the wet sand between my toes and the cigarette between my fingers and the water that would occasionally lap onto my feet. The contrast of the water on my feet and the smoke in my lungs felt important somehow—like I was bending the elements to my will. And it didn't even bother me when my feet were wet, so long as that air was still dry and salty and I had that smoke to fill my lungs

I glanced at the kids collected on the beach near the cliffs. They were smoking pot and I was pretty sure it was only a matter of time before people started cliff diving. I found a spot on the beach that would give me a good view of the action. Although people tended to congregate at the top of the cliffs to goad people and cheer, it really wasn't the best place to watch the actual dives. Despite that, the group of stoners at the bottom of the cliffs would probably climb up the steep incline on my left once they were sufficiently high.

I sat down about fifty yards from them, crossing my legs and stubbing out my cigarette in the sand before pocketing the butt and pulling out crisp, fresh cigarette. I had a tendency to chain smoke in social settings, regardless of how much I isolated myself.

"Leah!" a voice called, from amongst the cloud of cannibas. It was dark, so I couldn't see who it was without the light of the bonfire.

"Yeah?" I called back.

"Wanna smoke?"

"Who is that?"

"Yos!"

"No thanks, Yos! I'm just gonna watch the dives. Thanks, though!"

"Your call!"

Yos was a senior. I didn't know him that well, but I guess we knew each other well enough to know that we both smoked.

I sat and listened to the ocean and the distant chatter and laughter of the people gathered. Even though the darkness had turned the water into a black abyss, the whooshing sounds and the foam that tipped the crests of the waves revealed that it was still there, as alive and consistent and rhythmic as ever.

As I sat and listened, I thought about how much I loved the rez. As much as I kept to myself, I still felt like a member of the community. There weren't really any outsiders in La Push. It was maybe the only place someone like me _wouldn't _be an outsider.

It was something I thought about a lot when I was in Forks. I definitely felt like an outsider, there. And maybe

most Quileutes felt that way outside of the rez, seeing as we stand out a bit. But there's plenty of Quileutes to be found in Forks, on any given day. Since there aren't many job opportunities in La Push, most have to go outside the rez to work every day. And that means going to Forks, for most people.

But it wasn't just about having tawny skin and narrow eyes in a sea of white people. It was also the fact that, even though Forks was a small town and people tended to know each other, they all seemed more isolated. Sure, they interacted at work and at school and such. But, for the most part, they all retreated to their homes at the end of the day, to their own little bubbles.

On the rez, we were always together. And even though I only sort of knew Yos, I knew his parents' names, and I knew I would probably see them at the next fish fry. I knew his mom would ask me how school was going when she offered me a slice of her incredible strawberry pie.

I also knew, when I saw the stoners disperse and begin collecting sticks, that it was almost time for the cliff diving to begin. Their numbers had increased as I had smoked several more cigarettes, and collecting sticks meant that they were going to start another, smaller fire at the top of the cliffs. They did that so that the divers could warm up between dives.

Even though I didn't participate, I was excited with the anticipation of knowing that there would soon be people streaking off that cliff like meteors. It was my favorite thing in the world to watch. I was probably grinning just thinking about it when two dark figures made their way toward me. As they got closer, I could tell from the outline of the body that I had memorized that one of them was Sam Uley. But he wasn't the one to speak to me.

"You coming up?" Yos asked.

My eyes flicked from him to Sam, who was looking at me.

"No. I think I'm gonna stay down here to watch for a little while. I might come up later, though."

"Alright. Cool. We'll catch you up there later, then."

"'Kay."

My eyes flicked back to Sam's, then, just before they both turned to walk away and, for one brief second, he smiled again.

I still couldn't tell if it was amusement or not.

But I thanked the good lord I didn't even believe in that he didn't have eyes in the back of his ass as they strolled back toward the cliffs.

The hooting and hollering began before Yos and Sam even made it to the top of the cliffs. And when I heard a splash, I realized I had been so busy watching them climb up the path that I had missed the first dive. I looked over just in time to see a head surface and begin bobbing in the water.

It was a beautiful night and because of where I was sitting, the moon backlit the dives. As the bobbing head moved closer to the shore, a pair of broad shoulders emerged, followed by a wide chest and a narrow waist. Although it was dark, the moonlight reflected from the drops of water that fell from the dark form.

And I remembered the second reason I loved watching cliff diving.

As the first diver made his way back toward the path up the cliff, I heard another swell of noise coming from the top, signaling that another diver was about to make the leap. Because I was prepared that time, I watched as he came flying off the edge, throwing his arms behind him and soaring headlong into the water.

Watching him move through the air with such purpose made my heart leap with both awe and envy. It was as if I was vibrating with the desperate desire to feel what they all felt, as they soared. It was magic. It was sex. It was everything.

The second diver was barely out of the water before the cheers began again above me. And when the third diver soared off that cliff, I knew it was him. He dove with the same beauty and perfection that he breathed. But I couldn't feel the resentment bubbling up inside of me in that moment, because it was too hard not to catch my breath at the way he seared through the air, just before tucking his legs in and turning around and around. And after two seamless flips, his arms stretched in front of him and his legs behind him in a smooth line of determined ease. He made it all look so simple and beautiful.

Because in addition to being perfect looking, Sam Uley was also a perfect diver.

It was like he was put on the planet to get under my skin.

"Leah!"

I turned at the sound of Sasha's voice. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little pissed she and Danny were interrupting Sam Uley's emergence from the water.

"What's up, guys?"

"Come up the cliff with us! We're gonna go watch from up there," Sasha said.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure," I said, standing up and brushing the sand from my jeans, glancing back toward the water, where Sam Uley was swimming toward the shore slowly.

Then, the three of us trekked up the steep hill, grasping at stray reeds and rocks to pull ourselves up. The path was well worn, but that didn't make it any less steep, and I saw Danny steady Sasha several times. It made me roll my eyes, just a little. But, if I was completely honest with myself, it also kind of made me wish I had someone to reach out and steady me.

When we finally reached the top, we stood with the others who lined the path that the divers ran down before leaping. As much as I loved the view from below, the top of the cliff had a unique energy, as people cheered and those diving would prepare to take the plunge. Even in between jumps, the crowd buzzed with anticipation. And as we waited for another to pluck up the courage, Sasha and I tried to catch each other up without saying too much in front of Danny.

"Have we missed many?" she asked.

"Nah. There's only been three so far. Did I miss anything over by the bonfire?"

"Not really. I mean… It looked like the usual, but we wandered off for a bit."

We glanced at each other surreptitiously, then, so that Danny wouldn't see the look we exchanged. Because we both knew that she and Danny did more than just wander off. I knew it was going to drive me crazy not knowing exactly how _much _more until Danny wasn't standing right behind us.

Before I could begin obsessing about it, the crowd roared to life, because Yos was about to dive. Sasha and I leaned forward to see past the others, who were looking down the line where he was stripping off his t-shirt. Sasha glanced at me again and grinned before returning her attention to Yos. Yos was skinnier than Sam Uley, but he wasn't unpleasant to look at, for sure. And just before he broke into a sprint, he grinned that same grin they all got right before diving. Every single one of them. His eyes gleamed. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe it was just the high of the anticipation. But whatever it was, I wanted it.

As soon as he leapt and disappeared, the crowd burst into applause so loud that we didn't even hear the splash that followed. Some ran to the edge and peered over to watch him hit the water, but I never had the stomach for that, so Sasha and I stayed back.

"You know, just once I'd like to see one of the girls dive," I mumbled.

"You say that every time," Sasha said.

"I know. I just never understand why none of the girls step up."

"What's stopping _you_?"

We both whirled around then, because the voice came from behind us, but it wasn't Danny.

It was Sam Uley.

Standing in all his wet, dripping, half naked glory.

I sucked in a shocked breath and felt my eyes widen involuntarily. And from the way the air seemed frozen around us, I could tell that Sasha was just as shocked and non-functional as myself. It took a second for it to register that he had said something.

"Uh. What?"

"What's stopping you from diving?" he repeated, as my eyes darted from the water dripping down the smooth planes of his chest to the place where his stomach met the waist of his pants to the hair that clung wet to his broad shoulders.

"Uh. An irrational fear of heights. And, uh, maybe diving into water from heights specifically. Thanks to Jacob Black."

"Oh yeah? What'd Jacob do?" he asked as he tilted his head to one side and bundled his hair in his hands, wringing it out. As the water hit the ground, I felt some of it splash my ankle, where I had rolled up my jeans. It felt like acid on my skin-a scorching reminder that I was aware of even the water that fled from him.

"He shoved me from a diving board when we were little."

"Huh," he mumbled, straightening up and looking at me. I thought his eyes were going to burn a hole right through me. "Well, all the more reason to try it then, yeah?"

"I know," I said. I wanted to tell him that I was very acutely aware of how much I needed to leap from that cliff. More so than he could ever imagine. But I knew how crazy it would sound, because he didn't know how desperately I wanted it. That it had to do with a lot more than just overcoming some childhood fear.

"If you decide you want to, don't be shy about getting in line," he said. And I could tell from his tone that he intended those to be his parting words of condescension. But just as he made a move to walk back toward the fire, I spoke.

"I'm not shy."

It was childish and defensive, but that was one of my pet peeves. People assumed I was shy just because I had a few semi-antisocial tendencies. But it had nothing to do with shyness.

When he turned back to look at me, though, I realized that I hadn't come off as childish and defensive. I had come off much worse.

I had sounded like I was coming on to him.

I knew it the moment his lip curled up.

And then he was gone.

"_Fuck!" _I whispered, completely flustered. Sasha's head snapped in my direction and she stared at me, eyes wide.

"What was _that_?" she asked.

"Nothing!" I insisted, because Danny was standing right there, watching the two of us like a tennis match.

"I need a beer. Is there any beer here, Danny?" Sasha asked, turning to him.

"Yeah, sure. I'll be right back. You want one, Leah?"

"Yes."

Because I needed a beer in that moment more than I needed to abide by my personal rule about drinking on the cliffs. Danny nodded and wandered off, then, in search of the beer.

Of course, as soon as he was gone, Sasha didn't hesitate.

"Leah!"

"Oh god, Sasha!" I cried, my head falling to my hands. I was mortified.

"What's wrong?" she whispered. When I looked up, I could see that her eyes were on Sam Uley, and when I followed them, I saw him pulling his t-shirt back on. I looked away quickly, before he could catch us both being completely obvious about the fact that we were freaking out over his having talked to us. As if it was even worth freaking out about.

"I didn't mean it like that!" I whispered back, frantic.

"Like what?"

"When I said that I'm not shy—I didn't mean it to sound like an invitation into my pants!"

"Oh, Leah!" she said, laughing. "I don't think he took it like that."

"Did you see his face? That smug bastard _totally _took it like that."

"So what if he _did_? Why _wouldn't _you invite him into your pants?"

"Ugh! Sasha! I don't want to be one of those girls! And I don't want to feed Sam Uley's ego! And… I don't know, OK? I just… That was _humiliating_."

"Leah, what if he likes you?"

"Don't be stupid, Sasha. It's Sam Uley. I'm pretty sure he likes himself too much to have room for anyone else."

"Wow, Leah. That's pretty harsh. Even for you. Do you know him?"

No, but look at him!"

"Oh, stop. He could be perfectly nice. And maybe he _does _like you. That's twice you two have had a little moment tonight. That's not normal."

"Well, whatever. I'm not gonna be another notch in his bedpost."

"_I'll _be a notch in his bedpost. Just sayin'."

"Hey! Yeah!" I cried, suddenly remembering that there was an easy way to turn the direction of the conversation. "Since when are _you _so whore-y? And what were you and Danny doing when you wandered off?"

"Oh stop! We just made out some."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It was pretty awesome," she whispered. "But I'll tell you about it later." Because Danny was returning, with three beers in his hands.

"Thanks, Danny," I said, smiling.

"Sure thing."

"Oh yeah, Sasha: I told Jacob that we could give him and Quil and Embry a ride home tonight. But they know they're operating on our schedule."

"OK, cool," she said.

"It'll be pretty crowded, but they're pretty skinny, so it should be fine," I said.

"Yeah," Sasha said, eyes wide, nodding. Because she had picked up on what I was doing. "We'll just make them sit in the back together. We'll put Jake in the middle, since that's the seat without a seatbelt."

If only Danny were a little quicker.

"And I guess since I live kind of close to them, they're not _too _far out of your way. It sucks that you don't live closer to me. Remind me to give you gas money," I continued, loudly.

"Oh. Hey. I can give you a ride home, Sasha. Then Leah can take the boys."

Thank god he had finally caught on.

"Oh. Are you sure?" Sasha asked, turning toward him and batting her eyelashes.

"Yeah. It's cool."

"OK. You don't mind, do you, Leah?" she asked, turning to me and smiling.

"No way. Go for it. That'll make things way easier."

"OK. Thanks, Danny."

Then, we grinned at each other, just before we looked up to see the next diver.

And our jaws dropped, because it was little Jacob Black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Three**

**Disclaimer: SM owns the Twilight franchise with all her millions of dollars. I, unfortunately, don't own anything: Not even this fanfic. I am simply reposting it for others to enjoy it just as much as I do. All credit goes to**** Greeen Goldish.**

* * *

I didn't return to the cliffs that night when I couldn't sleep, as there was a danger that there'd still be bonfire stragglers there, partying late into the night.

The drive home was almost unbearable, with the boys bouncing around with an unbridled enthusiasm that only freshmen possess. After Jacob dove that night, Quil and Embry had as well. All three of them were beyond proud, as it was the first time any of them had cliff dived. They epitomized that freshman enthusiasm—exhilarated by partying with the older kids and their own efforts at proving themselves worthy.

They didn't yet realize that there really wasn't much difference between the younger kids and the older kids.

After dropping them off, I resigned myself to a sleepless night spent in my stuffy room. My parents were already asleep when I slipped in, and I would have said the same for Seth, but he poked his head out his doorway and grinned at me when he heard me coming down the hall. I rolled my eyes and ruffled his hair, before he darted back in.

The nice thing about Seth was that he was still young enough to think I was really cool, just by virtue of being older. Kind of like Jacob, Quil, and Embry idolized people like Sam Uley and Yos.

When I finally collapsed into my bed, I longed to smoke another cigarette, but I was too lazy to get up and crouch at my open window to blow the smoke out of it carefully. My smoking was a bit of an open secret in the family. Mom and Dad knew that I did it and I knew they didn't approve, but I never did it around them, so they never argued with me about it. I think they were resigned to the fact that I was addicted. Or maybe they just didn't think it mattered that much.

Still, I tried to avoid smoking in their house, even in secret.

So as much as I wanted a cigarette in that moment, I also didn't. I certainly wasn't going to go all the way outside to smoke one.

I really didn't have a reason to be so exhausted. It wasn't like _I _did any cliff diving. It was a fact that really burned me up, considering even the freshmen were doing it. Even Jacob _Black _was doing it. As I lay there, I was increasingly bitter about the fact that that little shit had pushed me from that diving board so many years ago, yet _he _was cliff diving with apparent ease.

It's possible I was exhausted from being tense all night. Because every muscle in my body tensed when I was paranoid that Sam Uley was looking at me, which was how I spent most of the night.

And it made me so _angry _that I let him have that kind of effect on me.

But when I wasn't thinking about how much he pissed me off just by _existing_, it was impossible not to think about that _body_, dripping and flawless. And that _smile_.

And as I felt my blood run hot again, it only made the anger returns.

It was a vicious cycle.

But it took my mind off how bad I wanted a cigarette.

So I glanced at my door and made sure it was locked before I pulled off the halter that was clinging to me and shimmied out of my jeans.

Then, I tapped into the rage and the lust and I pretended I hadn't worn the black panties for no reason that night.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

Saturday, I drove to Sasha's to return her car to her. I was a little surprised when her mom answered the door and told me she was still asleep.

"Go in and wake her up. It's past noon," she said.

"Uh. OK. Thanks, Mrs. Fox."

"Oh, and thanks for driving her home last night, Leah."

"Uh, no problem."

Sasha's house was considerably more posh than mine. Oddly, we tended to hang out at mine more often. It was almost like the pastel walls and the bright lights in her house made it less…home. So we were often found parked in front of the television in the dark, windowless living room of mine, instead. Everything in my house was brown. The walls. The furniture. It was kind of like the house would eventually sink back into the ground once we were through living in it; it was so small and brown.

Sasha's house, on the other hand, had been built relatively recently. Her walls were freshly painted drywall instead of 80s wood paneling and faux brick. There were actual light fixtures instead of naked bulbs. It still wasn't huge, but it felt a lot bigger than our house. Maybe it was the pastels. Or maybe the ceilings were a bit higher. I contemplated the fact that somebody like Sam Uley would probably have to duck under doorways in my house.

Not that I was thinking about Sam Uley.

After making my way down the robin's egg blue hallway, I knocked on Sasha's door gently.

"Sasha?"

"Mmmmm?" she mumbled.

I could tell she was still not completely functioning, but she was awake, so I let myself in. She was sprawled across her bed, face down, feet and hands dangling off the sides. She was still wearing the same clothes from the night before and I chuckled a little at the sight of her, wishing I had a camera.

Instead, I settled for leaping on her.

"SAAAAAAAAAAASHA!"

"Leah! Ahhh! I hate you!" she cried, flipping over and shoving me so violently that I fell to the floor with a thud.

I landed right on my ass, but couldn't help laughing at her.

"What the hell happened to you, huh? You seemed fine when I fake dropped you off last night."

"Oh my god, Leah. I don't think I got back until like four in the morning. Thank god Mom didn't stay up," she mumbled into the pillow.

"I think she knows you were drinking last night. She thanked me for driving you home. I guess she assumed I was your DD when your car wasn't here this morning."

"Oh, Christ. I haven't even….ughhhh."

"Did you have that much to drink?"

She rolled over then and sat up. I was still sitting on the floor, cross-legged.

"No. I'm not hungover. I'm just…exhausted."

"Oh, I _see_. Did you _exert _yourself last night?" I asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively. There was no point in being subtle, really.

"Shut up, Leah!" she cried, throwing a pillow at me. "It's not like that! We were just out late, OK?" she said, lowering her voice so her mother wouldn't overhear.

"Yeah? Out late doing _what_?" I asked.

"Talking, OK?"

"Don't lie to me!" I cried, throwing the pillow back at her.

"I'm not lying! I mean, we made out some. But we mostly just talked."

"Oh my god. Are you kidding? I think I just threw up in my mouth a little."

She rolled her eyes at me, just before sliding out of the bed.

"This is why I can't tell you stuff!" she said, as she walked across the room to her closet.

"What?" I asked. I was a little taken aback.

"You're so cynical about everything, Leah! Can't you just squeal like a girl with me over a boy for once?" she asked. She was pulling clothes out of her closet, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh…" I said. Because I was kind of at a loss for words. "I'm… My bad, Sasha. I didn't know… I guess I didn't realize you felt that way."

She finally looked up at me then, and sighed.

"Don't get me wrong. I love your snarkiness. I just… I'm really excited about this, OK? Don't ruin it for me."

"I'm not gonna ruin it! What's it matter what I think anyway?"

"It _does _matter, Leah! You're my best friend! I trust your judgment!"

"I don't know anything about guys! You know that!" I protested.

"You know which ones are dicks. And… It still feels good to gush every once in a while, OK? You can let me gush as long as Danny's not a dick, right?"

"Yeah, Sasha. I'm sorry. Gush away. I really do want to hear about last night. I was just teasing. But really-what did you guys talk about?"

She smiled at me, then, and I knew I was forgiven. One of the great things about Sasha was that she was quick to forgive.

Great for me, at least. Not always great for _her_.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

Sasha and I watched a movie that night at my house. Seth watched it with us, because we don't care enough to exclude him just for being a pest. He's really not that bad, as far as brothers go. I just have to smack him upside the head every once in a while when he starts talking through important scenes. Sometimes I think he does it just to annoy me.

I can appreciate that.

After it was over, Sasha went home, because she was still pretty tired from the night before.

So I went back to the cliffs.

I was determined.

When I got there that night, I didn't walk to the edge. I didn't want to lose my nerve. I just walked up to that spot where the boys would always begin their sprint. Then, I took off my t-shirt and dropped it on the ground. Staring out at the stone path that lay before me, I unzipped my jeans and let them drop as well. When I stepped out of them, there was a breeze, and I realized how fucking cold the water was going to be.

Then I wished like hell I hadn't thought about that.

Because I started thinking about all of it. I thought about how the water would feel. I thought about how I didn't have the benefit of a fire to dry out and warm up after the dive. I thought about what it looked like peering over the edge, and the many and varied ways Imaginary Leah had met her demise.

I tried to block it all out.

I closed my eyes, and told myself that when I opened them, I would start the sprint.

But when I opened them, I only managed two halfhearted steps forward.

I sighed and plopped to the ground, realizing I was a coward, yet again. Then, I laid back and again closed my eyes, gritting my teeth in frustration. I blindly reached behind me and pawed at the ground behind me for my jeans. When I finally made contact, I pulled them to me and retrieved my cigarettes from my pocket.

The ritual was so ingrained in me, that I could do it blind. I didn't even have to open my eyes to light the cigarette. All I had to do was inhale.

And it was only after that smoke hit my lungs that I opened my eyes, to see the sky above me.

Just in time for the clouds to open up and pour down on me.

I cursed to myself as I sat up quickly and collected my clothes. Then, I frantically tried pulling my shirt on while simultaneously hopping around in an effort to get my jeans on. I'm sure I looked ridiculous.

Not that it mattered.

By the time I got my clothes on, though, I was already drenched. It was one of those torrential downpours, complete with thunder and lightning. I don't know how I didn't realize sooner that there was a threat of that happening, and I thanked god that I hadn't chosen that night to dive off the cliff.

Then, I ran all the way home.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

My shoes are not very interesting.

I know that because I spent far too much time looking at them on Monday.

It was terrible.

I walked around in constant fear of catching Sam Uley's eye. Or, really, I guess I was afraid of Sam Uley catching _my _eye.

It was raining again, so I skipped my lunch time cigarette.

Just as well.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

Tuesday, Danny asked Sasha out on a proper date.

She was ecstatic.

…

Wednesday, nothing happened.

Not one, god damned thing.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

Thursday, school was uneventful.

The same could not be said for the Clearwater household.

It started after dinner. It was pretty late, because Mom hadn't gotten off work until eight o clock, and Dad and I were both completely useless in the kitchen.

I'm probably a bad daughter, that way. Mom always did way too much around the house.

So, we didn't end up eating dinner until about nine, and I think she was pretty stressed from having to work so late. She was a maid at a hotel on the highway. Some people call her a "maintenance specialist" or whatever. But that's bullshit. She's a maid. I'll never understand why that's a dirty word.

It was as I was scraping my plate that it started.

"Leah, you got some mail today," she said. "It's on the coffee table in the living room." She was stacking dishes in the sink, and I handed her the one I was holding.

"OK."

It wasn't something to get excited about. I got mail almost every day, but it was never anything _real_. It was always just mailings from colleges. So I wandered into the living room without much enthusiasm and picked up what turned out to be yet more crap to add to some landfill somewhere, courtesy of the University of Washington. I could hear Seth bugging Mom in the kitchen about staying up late to watch some horror movie that was coming on TV (which was rare, as we didn't have cable) while my Dad flopped down on the couch and began channel surfing, completely oblivious to the fact that Seth was about to try to wrest the remote control from him.

I walked back into the kitchen and chucked the U Dub materials in the trash and tried to help mom out.

"Shut up, Seth. That's a crappy movie, anyway. It's not worth staying up for, trust me."

"Leah!" my mom cried.

"What?" I asked, frozen. She didn't get upset often, and I wasn't sure what I had done. My eyes darted to Seth, who was making a 'nyah nyah' face at me.

"Don't tell your brother to shut up! And why did you just throw out that mail without even opening at it! ?"

"Huh?" I asked. I was really confused.

"You don't even look at any of it! You just throw it all away! Are you even planning on applying to colleges Leah! ?"

When I looked at Seth _then_, his eyes were round, and he darted out of the room, running for cover.

"Uh… Yes…?"

"Is that a question or an answer?" she demanded. Her hands were on her hips, dish towel in hand. She was pissed.

It was weird.

"Um. I don't know. I didn't think you cared…"

"What do you _mean_? Of course we care! Of _course _we want you to go to college!"

"Really? Why? _You _never went. Neither did Dad."

"Leah! What's _wrong _with you? Do you want to spend your life scrubbing toilets like me?"

"Why _not_, Mom? What's _wrong _with that? There's nothing wrong with what you do for a living!" I protested. I meant it. But a part of my heart was breaking, because I had never heard my mom talk about her work that way, before. I knew she didn't particularly _like _her job. But who does? It killed me, though, to think that she thought poorly of herself because of it, or that she was implying that it was degrading in some way.

"I want better for you! You're smart, Leah! You can be anything you want! Why would you want to be like me and your father! ?"

"Why _wouldn't _I, Mom? There's no shame in anything you all do! And I don't need to waste four years of my life getting some fancy degree I'll never use just to come back and live on the rez! It's not like there's a lot of jobs around here that require degrees!"

"What are you _talking _about, Leah? How will there ever _be _those types of jobs in La Push if people don't _create _them? And why do you want to limit yourself? Getting a degree only opens doors!"

"Mom! You really think I'm gonna go to college and then come back and start up my own business or something? ?"

"Why not? You're the one who's always complaining about the lack of opportunities here! Yet you don't want to do anything about it! You seem perfectly content to do nothing with your life!"

By then, Dad had gotten up off the couch and wandered in. He leaned in the doorway and watched, unwilling to get involved. He was like that. He left all the fighting to me and mom.

"Yeah, but that's just…philosophical, Mom. It doesn't matter for _me_. I don't _mind _working on the rez. Or doing like what you do in Forks. Or Dad. It's not like I need to have a bunch of money or anything"

Dad was an electrician. And actually, it was probably a bit of a stretch for me to pretend I could do that. I knew nothing about it. And it seemed pretty complicated.

I glanced at him, and he had his eyebrows raised. It was clear I wasn't going to get any support from him.

"I'm not saying there's anything wrong with what your father and I do! I'm just saying that I don't think you should sell yourself short! There's more opportunities for someone like you than there were when we were your age! You shouldn't throw those away!"

"I'm not selling myself short, Mom! I just…"

I wanted to say that I didn't care. But I knew that would get me into a world of shit.

"You don't _what_, Leah?"

"It doesn't _matter_! None of it _matters_! Don't you see?"

"No, Leah. I don't! I don't understand why you're wasting your life! I don't understand why you don't study or care about school or much of anything! I don't understand why you smoke those cigarettes even though you're smart enough to know they're killing you and that it upsets us! I don't understand why you don't even seem to care about the people around you!"

"_What_?"

It was like she had just split me open and my guts were pouring out onto the kitchen floor. How was it possible that she believed any of that? How could she not see that I cared more about her and Dad and Seth than anything? That they were the _only _things that mattered? She had _never _mentioned the smoking. How could my smoking be interpreted as not caring about _them_?

I was so shocked I just stood there staring at her.

She narrowed her eyes at me. Not only was she not going to apologize for implying that I was a heartless bitch, she also wasn't gonna back down. She threw the dish cloth over her shoulder then and turned her back on me, returning her attention to the dishes in the sink.

I'm pretty sure my mouth was hanging open when I glanced over at my Dad. His brow was furrowed and his lips pursed. He looked at me for a long moment before stepping behind Mom and rubbing her shoulders.

And I was suddenly aware that I had completely unwittingly become a huge source of stress for my parents.

I could feel what was left of my guts spinning in my stomach, and I felt sick. My mother's words rang in my ears, and god damn did I need a cigarette. So I did the only thing I could think to do.

I left.

Except, I didn't light up. Instead, I ran.

I headed for the cliffs.

I looked up at the sky on my way there, to make sure there wasn't another storm threatening. There were only a few sparse clouds.

There was no one around. It was absolutely desolate as I rounded corners quickly, nearing the beach. The temperature had dropped that day, likely accounting for the lack of people around.

When I reached the top of the hill, I stopped. Because I wasn't going to sit on the edge that night, or peer over it.

I shed my shirt without even really thinking about.

Then my shoes came off.

When I shimmied out of my jeans, a breeze blew the leaves on the trees and my body was suddenly covered in goosebumps.

But it didn't matter.

I didn't even hesitate.

The second I stepped out of my jeans, I turned toward the water and broke into a sprint.

I looked straight ahead as I ran, eyes on the horizon.

When I made the leap, it was like a bound spring had been released. The thick, night air sailed past me, unable to slow the speed at which I soared through it.

And it was just as I imagined it.

It was like flying.

In that one small moment when my body was still parallel with the water, it was the freedom I had been longing for. It was freedom from caring about anything that had been said in my house that night, and freedom from my fears that Danny would come between me and Sasha. It was freedom from my parents and Ms. Call and college applications and my future. It was freedom from the annoyances of Jacob Black and Seth, but also of my disdain for and attraction to Sam Uley. Because nothing in that moment mattered other than how it felt to fly off that cliff.

More than anything, it was freedom from not caring about anything.

Because in that moment, I felt alive, awake, and engaged. Not only was I present in my life and in my body—I was commanding it.

So I threw my arms back and dove, meeting the water head first.

When I did hit the water, it was almost as much of a jolt to the system as the adrenaline of the leap, because

the water was so cold. But it was also the moment my brain kicked back into gear, and the fear crept in, as I plummeted into that dark water deeper and deeper, unable to stop the momentum of it. My eyes were closed at the impact, which only added to my disorientation, and when I finally slowed enough to open them, it didn't serve to calm me any, because everything was completely black. It was like being blind.

I told myself my body would seek the surface naturally, so I stretched my arms out in an effort to break what still felt like a free fall, even in the water. That slowed me some, and then I waited a split second for my body to stop so that I could feel the natural drift toward the surface.

Then…

I scrambled like crazy to get to that surface.

I tried to concentrate on kicking hard and swimming fluidly instead of frantically, but I think it was still pretty frantic in the end.

I was shocked when I felt the water break and the air hit my face. It seemed like mere seconds, and I was sure it was going to take much longer, considering it felt like I had been diving down practically to the center of the earth.

But then: it hit me.

I had done it.

I had made the leap, and it was everything I had ever imagined and more. And I had _survived_.

As the water lapped over my shoulders, I threw my head back and laughed.

Because I was triumphant.

Then, I kicked my feet out ahead of me and fell to my back, floating. I stared up at the stars and smiled. Because even though the universe was a huge place, I felt pretty significant in that moment, even if it was just in my own tiny existence.

The only sounds were those of the waves and my heartbeat.

Until I heard a splash.

A loud one.

I kicked myself back upright and looked around, because it was much too loud to have been a fish jumping. I scanned the waves, but I couldn't see where it had come from.

It was only when I saw a head emerge from the water that I realized someone else had followed me off the cliff.

Which was kind of terrifying.

"Who's there?" I called.

"Leah!"

It was Sam Uley.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer holds all rights to the Twilight series and unfortunately, wasted a good story line on a not so good character. However, I'm biased and my love for Leah Clearwater is what holds me to to the Twilight series. I do not take granted for this fanfic. I did not write it, I am simply reposting it so you guys could love it as much as I do. All credit goes to**** Greeen Goldish.**

* * *

"What are you doing here?" I whispered. I don't know why I was whispering. I guess because it was the middle of the night.

Instead of answering, he swam toward me slowly.

He stopped mere inches from me. We stared at one another as we both awkwardly tread water. Confused, I tried to read his face. His brow was furrowed and I realized he was probably trying to read my expression, as well.

Then, my eyes dropped to the shoulders that peeked out of the water and the long black hair that clung to them. My gaze followed the smooth planes of his body up to his unyielding jaw. When my eyes again met his, his brow had smoothed. And I realized that the look on his face again mirrored my own—because his eyes were hooded with a heavy and unadulterated lust.

He moved closer and suddenly, I felt his hand on my back. When I didn't resist, he pulled me to him and, before I even had time to think too much about it, his lips were on mine.

God, could he kiss.

Our legs brushed against each other as we both struggled to keep afloat while our upper bodies entwined. But everything was secondary to the way his mouth felt on mine. I had never even been kissed before, yet Sam Uley's tongue was suddenly slipping in and out of my mouth deftly as he kept me pressed to his chest with one hand flat on my back.

When his other hand gripped my neck and our mouths began moving faster, I knew that he had been driven as mad as I had. I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly, and when he moaned, it set me on _fire_.

Then, the hand on my neck slid down into the water to cup my breast, and I was reminded that there was nothing soft about Sam Uley. His body was lean and firm, just like the way he touched me. His hands moved with a rough determination. There were no sweet caresses or light kisses. When his mouth moved off of mine and down my neck, he pressed his lips and tongue to me in a way that made _me _moan.

And I realized that there _was _something between Sam Uley and I.

But just when I thought I might scream, he stopped.

His head fell back and he released a heavy sigh, before looking at me.

"Come on."

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

He let go of me so suddenly that I realized for the first time that he had actually been the one keeping us afloat, as my chin dipped into the water momentarily before I buoyed myself back above the surface. But then I felt his fingers interlace with my own and he began swimming. _We _began swimming.

It was only as we closed in on the shore that my brain started to register what was happening. It was hard to think, because the lust was making my head fuzzy. But I was pretty sure Sam and I were about to have sex.

And I was pretty sure that there was nothing I wanted more.

His toes touched sand before mine, because he was taller, but he still gripped my hand. After a few more strokes, I felt the sand under my own feet, and righted myself. Then, he walked toward the beach as quickly as the water would allow and I tripped along behind him in an effort to keep up.

The cold air was biting and, for the first time, I looked down and realized that I was already virtually naked, with nothing but my ocean-soaked, white cotton underwear clinging to me.

I wondered why Sam was there at the cliffs that night.

But I didn't really care.

When we emerged completely, he glanced back at me, and I met his gaze. I didn't want him to think there was any fear or doubt in my mind. Because I knew what I wanted.

I wanted to fuck Sam Uley.

I expected him to pull me down into the sand, but he didn't. Still clasping my hand, he kept walking quickly, and I followed. I wondered where we were going, but I didn't ask.

I didn't really care.

As we approached the tree line, I realized he was perhaps seeking cover. Maybe he was afraid someone would see us, or maybe he was just trying to escape the breeze that came off the water.

Again, it wasn't my primary concern as my eyes traced the arcs of the shoulder blades that moved in step with the rest of his body.

Lean.

Firm.

Before diving, he had stripped to his boxer shorts, which were white and clung to him with a transparency gifted me by the moonlight. My eyes were transfixed on the smooth, perfect curves that lay beneath.

Thus, I hardly noticed that we were surrounded by trees when he stopped suddenly. He turned and pulled me closer, releasing my hand, only to place both of his own on my face. I met his lips with mine before he even had the opportunity to pull my face to his, and I knew from the way he breathed as he kissed me that it had set him off.

I put my arms around his waist, digging my fingers into those curves that had taunted me up the beach. It was like it didn't matter that I had no experience with what we were about to do, because it was impossible not to do exactly what I was doing in that moment. It was a moment that blew every mundane fantasy I had ever had out of the water.

"Oh god, Leah," he moaned, throwing his head back again. I pressed my lips into his neck, realizing he was granting me access to that beautiful throat I had envisioned so many times. Then, I felt his hands move from my face to my body. He planted one hand firmly on the small of my back again as the other clutched my breast. And as he moved closer to me, I realized he was guiding me backwards a few steps. His mouth again met mine as he pressed himself against me and me against a tree.

Thus, I simultaneously felt Sam Uley's erection pressing into my hip and the rough tree bark pressing into my back.

And it felt _good_.

He dipped his head down to my neck just long enough to drag his lips across it and grab my leg under the knee. Then, he lifted my leg around him until I was straddling him and I became vaguely aware of the contrast between the cold wetness of the ocean water that dripped down me and the warm wetness from _me_.

I didn't need his cue, though, to wrap my other leg around him. He put his arms around me to hold me to him, suspended between his chest and the tree as his tongue pushed against mine.

My arms were around his neck, then, and I was so fixated on the pulsing between my thighs that I didn't even realize my hands clutched his hair perhaps a bit too fiercely. Everything was happening so fast.

"Oh god," I moaned.

"Leah," he breathed.

"Do it," I said. Because I had no idea what I was doing. I knew I wanted it, but he was going to have to take the lead.

Then, I felt one of his hands let go of my waist, and he shifted his weight some, but his lips never left my skin, working their way urgently over my face and neck and mouth. It was exhilarating.

It was terrifying.

When I felt his fingers between my legs, I almost forgot to breath.

He pushed the wet cotton aside just before lowering me onto him.

I gasped from the pain, tensing my muscles and my grip around him.

And then I felt his hand release my underwear as he leaned into the tree for support. I braced myself, as he began rocking into me.

As the pain inside me began to dull, it was replaced with the pain of the tree digging into my naked back. I could feel it tearing my skin with every one of his thrusts.

It burned.

It felt exactly right.

I wanted to scream from the perfect ecstasy of it all.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

I knew it was over when his entire body tensed and he let out a guttural cry.

I loved that I had made him make that noise.

I loved that Sam Uley had lost control.

His head fell to my shoulder then and we both panted, catching our breath. I unwound my legs from around him and my feet found the ground hesitantly. I didn't let go of him right away, because my legs felt like spaghetti.

He didn't let go of me right away, either, but I began to panic when I realized there was a risk we would have

to talk about what had just happened between us.

I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want Sam to see the blood that was surely dripping down my thighs and my back.

I was terrified he would apologize.

I was terrified he wouldn't.

The moment I felt my legs return to normal, I let go of him. He lifted his head from my shoulder then and looked at me, but his arms were still hanging loosely around my waist.

Loosely enough that it took little effort to break free from him.

Then, I ran.

It hurt, because I was barefoot, and there were rocks and twigs that pierced the bottoms of my feet, but I didn't slow down. I couldn't. I heard him call my name, but I couldn't face him. I barely slowed down enough to snatch up my clothes and my shoes when I reached the top of the cliff. I kept sprinting, nearly all the way home.

As I began nearing houses, I stopped only long enough to pull on my jeans and shoes. Then, I continued running as I pulled my shirt back on.

I was so hot and sweaty from the run by the time I reached our house that the cold ocean water was a distant memory. I stopped outside the house and doubled over, panting.

As I caught my breath, I realized what a mess I was. I stumbled around to the back of the house, crawling into my window. I glanced at the clock, disappointed that it still wasn't even midnight. It felt like I had lived a lifetime in the span of what was likely not much more than an hour.

The house was quiet and dark, so I knew my family was asleep. I also knew there was a risk taking a shower would wake my parents, but I couldn't not take a shower. So I slipped out of my room and into the hallway as quietly as possible.

It was dark, and I closed the bathroom door behind me before turning on the light, which burned my eyes. I covered them a moment before they adjusted. Then, I began stripping off my clothes. When I saw the blood stains on my shirt and underwear, I put the stopper in the sink and ran some cold water in it, with some soap. Then, I dropped in the soiled pieces and pushed them down into the water, watching them bubble up as they languidly resisted my drowning them. I was too drained to do anything other than let them soak while I showered.

When they became sufficiently saturated to sink to the bottom of the water, I turned to the shower, wincing as the shower rings screeched against the rod when I pushed the shower curtain aside. The water itself was even louder, as it groaned to life when I twisted the handles.

I waited until the water was nearly scalding and the room had filled with steam. Then, I stepped under the steady spray. Water pressure was one thing our house didn't lack. As the water hit my back, the searing sting of it was nearly unbearable.

And it was only then, as I washed him off of me, that I began to wonder how many girls Sam Uley had slept with. It was only then that I thought about the fact that we hadn't used a condom. Sam Uley didn't even know that I was on birth control. For all he knew, he had just impregnated me.

The burning never abated.

My back was on fire.

And as I watched the blood swirl around and down the drain at my feet, red and bright against the white tub, I knew running had been the right decision.

And yet…fucking him didn't feel like the wrong one.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

I slept on my stomach that night, what little I slept. When I woke up and looked in the mirror the following morning, I turned around and lifted my t-shirt, examining where the cuts on my back had puffed up and begun to scab over.

And I smiled.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

I spent a lot of time Friday staring at my shoes again. That, and trying to remember not to sit back against chairs too quickly.

At lunch, I needed a cigarette _bad_.

Fortunately, it was raining, so I at least had an excuse for the gall with which I asked Sasha if I could use her car to smoke in.

"_Please_," I pleaded.

"No! Gross! You need to quit, Leah. I'm not gonna be your enabler."

"Sasha, just this _one _time, I promise. It's… I'm desperate, OK?"

"If you're that desperate, you can stand in the rain. I'll loan you my umbrella, if you want."

I sighed. Because Sasha's umbrella wouldn't protect me from Sam Uley. But I took it from her anyway.

"Thanks," I mumbled, heading for the cafeteria door.

I briefly considered going to my usual spot, because I didn't want Sam Uley to have that much control over my life. That was the only reason I was even _at _school that day. I refused to allow what happened to interfere with my routine. But sacrificing my smoking spot on a rainy day seemed slightly less irrational, particularly considering the fact that I was pretty sure he would corner me there. I decided to go behind the gym. At least there'd be other people there, and he surely wouldn't try to confront me about my post-fuck disappearing act in public.

Right?

I stared at my shoes as I tripped past the school building and then broke into a jog through the no man's land between the school and the gym, with the hood of my sweatshirt pulled up. I hated umbrellas. I found them awkward and cumbersome, and I was going to utilize Sasha's as little as possible.

When I turned the corner around the back of the gym, I looked up and scanned the faces anxiously. Fortunately, he wasn't there. I tried not to make eye contact with the others as I opened the umbrella. The rain had really started to come down, necessitating its use. I fumbled with my one free hand for my lighter and cigarettes. It took me a right minute to get myself in order, probably in part because I only had one hand

to work with, but probably also in part because my nerves were shot. I told myself there was a chance Sam wouldn't even notice me, with my hoodie pulled over my face, in the last place he would look for me. I never smoked behind the gym. I hoped that maybe he was still avoiding it, as well.

God, I needed that cigarette.

Unfortunately, the wind kept aborting all of my attempts to light it, as I couldn't use my other hand to cup around it as a shield.

It was just as I was trying to awkwardly tuck the umbrella handle under my arm to free up my other hand that I heard the flick of the lighter and looked up to see a perfect flame poised at the tip of my cigarette.

I froze.

And then I inhaled, praying the hands cupping the flame weren't the same ones that had been all over me the night before.

But I knew they were, even before I looked at his face.

I'd have known those hands anywhere.

"Thanks," I mumbled, without meeting his eyes.

He shifted himself between me and the other smokers, then, his back to them.

"How's your back?" he asked quietly.

I still didn't look up. I just ashed my cigarette as I answered.

"Fine."

Then, I took another draw.

"Leah."

"What?" I asked, impatient. I looked up at him, then. He was getting pelted by the rain, the hood of his jacket the only thing protecting him. When I saw the look on his face, I wanted to punch him, because it was filled with pity.

"Are we really not gonna talk about this?" he asked.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"That's precisely what we're gonna do."

He stepped closer to me then, so that we were sharing the umbrella.

It was uncomfortably close.

I could feel his breath on my face.

"Do you regret it?" he whispered.

"No," I said, meeting his gaze. Because I wasn't going to let him think that I was some sad sack. I wasn't going to let him think that he had seduced me or taken advantage of me. I wasn't going to let him think that I hadn't

been in complete control.

Plus, I didn't regret it.

I took another long draw of my cigarette, then, as he stared at me. Because I had a feeling I wasn't going to get to smoke the whole thing.

"Why did you run?" he asked.

"I gotta go," I said, flicking my cigarette into one of the many muddy puddles that were forming in the grass. Then, I shoved the umbrella into his hand before sticking my hands in my pockets and running back to the cafeteria.

I'd buy Sasha another umbrella.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

I don't know why I didn't tell Sasha.

I guess it just all felt so…outside of the realm in which she and I operated together. Sure, we talked about guys and sex and everything else. But how could I tell her that Sam Uley had fucked me against a tree until I bled? And that I'd _liked _it? She would think I was crazy.

It was like why I never tried to explain the cigarettes to her.

I actually didn't even tell her about the fight with my parents.

It worked out, considering she had a date with Danny that night, and she was entirely capable of carrying most of any actual conversations we had.

But it did make me worry that there was something growing between us.

And maybe it _wasn't _Danny.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

Seth was the only one home when I got back from school that day. That was fortunate, because I had no idea how to deal with what had happened with my parents.

It sucked, because I didn't want to be around the house when they got home, but Sasha was busy. Without a car, that meant I was pretty much limited to wandering.

I couldn't go to the cliffs or the beach, as I knew they'd likely be crowded with other people.

After dumping my school stuff in my room, I grabbed my last fresh pack of cigarettes before stepping out to the street.

I turned east, and I walked.

I didn't really have a destination.

Just…away from people.

And as I pulled out what would be the first of many cigarettes, I thought about the fact that I would need to talk Sasha into driving into Forks soon

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

I had probably walked two miles down La Push Road when it started to rain again. I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt back up and continued walking. What was a little rain when I felt perpetually damp, anyway?

It wasn't long, though, before a truck slowed next to me. The window rolled down just as I looked up.

"Leah! Wanna ride?"

It was Yos.

"Where?" I asked.

"Wherever. You're getting soaked!" he shouted over the beating rain.

"Where are you headed?"

"We're going to Forks to pick up some stuff at Newton's for a camping trip this weekend. You wanna come?"

When he said 'we,' I panicked, leaning forward to see who was in the passenger seat for the first time. But it was only Paul.

"Yeah, sure," I said. "Can we make a stop for cigarettes?"

Yos put the truck in park and hopped out, then, to let me slide in between him and Paul, who nodded at me.

"Sure," he said, jumping back in after me and slamming the car door shut. When he threw the car back into gear, I began to feel a little self conscious about the fact that I was dripping all over the cab of the truck. "Were you… You weren't _walking _to Forks for cigarettes, were you?" he asked.

"No. I was just…going for a walk," I said, shrugging.

"In the rain?"

"It wasn't raining when I left."

He only shook his head then, like I was crazy.

I was becoming increasingly concerned that maybe I _was _crazy.

I didn't know whether Yos let people smoke in his truck or not, but realized it was a moot point considering I was riding bitch.

When he pulled into the gas station and parked, he kept the car idling while I ran in and got a carton of cigarettes. I was only seventeen, but no one ever carded in Forks-maybe because they needed the business that bad. Teenagers probably made up the majority of smokers in the area.

Paul jumped out of the passenger side and held the door open for me as I ran back through the rain to the truck. As Yos pulled away from the station, he asked me if I wanted to go camping with them. When I thought about it, I realized it was the perfect way to get away from all the shit that was going on for a little while. But then I also realized that Yos was a friend of Sam Uley's.

"Who's going?" I asked.

"Me, Paul, Zed, Cal, and Isaiah. You'd be the only chick, but I don't think anyone would mind. And you can share a tent with the two of us," he said, nodding toward Paul, "as long as _you _don't mind."

I thought about it for a second.

"Yeah. Sure. I'm in."

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

After the guys picked up some kind of fancy cooking equipment from Newton Outfitters, they drove me back to my house.

"We can pick you back up in like thirty minutes, on our way out to the mountains."

"No! Give me _two _minutes," I begged. I didn't want to get stuck in the house long enough for my parents to come home. I still didn't know how to talk to them, and I had no desire to deal with any of it that day.

"Yeah, alright," he answered. "But the meter's runnin'."

"Thanks! I'll be right back!"

Paul again let me out and I sprinted into the house, flying past a wide-eyed Seth, who was parked in front of the TV in the living room. After darting into my room and the bathroom to grab my backpack and stuff it with a few essentials, I ran back out the front door, only to realize I probably needed to at least tell Seth where I was going. I poked my head back in and looked at him.

"Tell Mom and Dad I'm camping this weekend with some friends from school."

"Huh?"

"Are you deaf?"

"No! But… Did you get permission?"

"Shut up, Seth! Just do it!"

Then, I slammed the door behind me and sprinted back through the rain to the truck.

When I slid back in between them, it felt good. I didn't know exactly where we were headed or what the plan was, but…that in and of itself was kind of nice. So instead of thinking about how badly I wanted a cigarette, I watched the rain beat down on the windshield as the wipers squeaked back and forth and wondered what the weekend would hold.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six **

******Disclaimer: I shouldn't even have one since everyone knows Stephenie Meyer owns the amazing characters in Twilight. But many of you don't know that Greeen Goldish made this story so now you know. Also, this story is Pre- Twilight not AU. **

* * *

"What's up with you and Sam?" Yos asked as he handed me the joint.

"Huh?"

I was high, but his question had still caught me completely off guard. The six of us were sitting around the campfire, as it had finally stopped raining. Up to that point, we hadn't been talking about much of anything of

substance.

"I've seen you two talking at school and stuff. I was just wondering if there was something going on there."

I took a drag of the joint and passed it to Zed. The others were all quiet and looking at me, which made me uncomfortable—not only because people had picked up on something between me and Sam Uley, but also because it was the first time since we had gotten there that I didn't feel like 'just one of the guys.'

"Nothing," I answered.

"Yeah? You sure?" Yos pressed.

I glanced over at him. He was seated next to me, and I couldn't tell whether I was making it easy to read my discomfort.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm sure."

"It's cool, Leah. No need to get defensive. Just…inquiring minds and all that," he said.

So apparently he could read my defensiveness.

"OK. I just… I don't know why…. Never mind," I stammered, looking at the ground. Yos chuckled a little.

"Alright, then. Now that we've got that all sorted out, who wants to throw the friz?" he asked.

"In the dark?" I asked.

"Sure," Paul answered, holding up a Frisbee that was glowing.

"Oh. Cool."

And then we tossed the Frisbee for the rest of the night, high as kites. I have no idea what time we went to bed. I wasn't wearing a watch and I don't think any of us were paying attention. But it was pretty awesome collapsing into the tent, completely exhausted.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

On Saturday, we went for a hike. The guys were all worried I couldn't handle it. Supposedly they were all hardcore outdoorsmen, and there was more than one of them who steadied me with a hand on my wrist or my waist as we climbed, reminding me of that night on the beach when I had longed for exactly that, watching Danny and Sasha. But it just felt insulting that afternoon.

By the time we got to the top of the trail, which offered a stunning overlook of the valley in which we were camping, I was definitely huffing and puffing. But I'm sure that was from the cigarettes.

We all sat down on the rock surface while Zed pulled out a bowl and we passed it around. I began wondering to what degree they were actually outdoorsmen versus just glorified stoners. But I didn't refuse the bowl when Yos handed it to me, because getting high was a lot easier than getting introspective that day.

So maybe I wasn't so different from the guys, after all.

After we smoked that bowl, we spread out all over the sun-warmed rock surface, splayed out on our backs and stomachs. The sun felt so good on my back, as I rested my head on my hands. I didn't even mind the perspiration that dripped down the sides of my face. I just closed my eyes and focused on flying.

Unfortunately, my memories of flying off the cliff were always followed by my memories of Sam Uley. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, when I compartmentalized that night from the _implications _of that night. Except that my blood was running a little extra hot when I heard Yos's voice in my ear.

"Leah, wake up."

"Hm?" I mumbled, opening my eyes and squinting into the sunlight. I hadn't even realized I had fallen asleep. Maybe because the dream had been so vivid.

"We gotta head back down before the sun starts to set."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, sitting up and grabbing my stuff. Then, Yos offered his hand and I grabbed it. He pulled me to my feet. The others had already started back down the trail.

"You did good today," Yos said as we followed. He was behind me, so I did a half-turn, looking at him.

"Huh?"

"The hike. You did good."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "Did you think I wasn't gonna be able to make it or something?"

"You smoke like a billion cigarettes a day, Leah! And it wasn't a bunny hike."

I kept walking, because the others were already about fifty feet ahead of us, but I was shaking my head.

"You smoke, too, Yos," I said, watching the rocks and sticks under my feet. I definitely wasn't going to live it down if I tripped, particularly considering the tone of our conversation.

"Yeah, but not like you. Plus, I was gonna be in a world of shit for bringing the chick if you couldn't keep up."

"What the hell?" I cried, stopping and turning to face him.

"Exactly what I said, Leah! So keep up, alright?" he shot back, grinning and nodding toward the others. I glared at him, but turned and sped up my pace a bit to catch the others. We didn't talk much the rest of the way down, but Yos did laugh a little when I pulled out a cigarette and started smoking about halfway through.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

When we got back to camp, Paul started throwing his stuff in Yos's truck while the others started another fire for dinner.

"What's Paul doing?" I asked.

"Oh, he's going back early. His aunt has surgery tomorrow morning. I told him he could take my truck. There's room in the other car for us," he assured me.

"Oh."

I couldn't tell if he really hadn't thought much about it or if he was just trying not to acknowledge the fact that that meant he and I would be alone in the tent that night.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

After dinner, we smoked another bowl and stayed up talking. Most of the guys were seniors, so I guess Ishouldn't have been that surprised when the conversation turned to college, considering the school year was winding down. But it was still a little weird for me, as they were all stoners. It was really hard to envision any of them in college.

"My cousin says he's got this really cool professor that he goes and drinks with sometimes after class. He's like this cool old dude who marched on Washington and stuff, and he always buys his students a round," Zed said.

Leave it to Zed to make college about drinking.

Not that that was an entirely new notion.

"Oh yeah? That's cool. What school?" Yos asked.

"U Dub."

"Yeah? You gotta ask him what professor so I can enroll in one of his classes," Yos said.

"You're going to U Dub?" I asked. It dawned on me that I really didn't know all that much about Yos. I certainly hadn't pegged him for the college type.

"Yep. Planning on majoring in business."

"_Really_?"

"Yeah. Don't act so surprised!"

"I… I didn't mean it like that. I just… I guess I think of you as a peer and college isn't really on my radar," I said.

"Dude, you're almost a senior."

"Yeah, but…" I shrugged, unwilling to finish the sentence that had been getting me into a lot of trouble of late. Yos didn't press it. He just shrugged. Then, he stood up and stretched.

"I'm exhausted. I'm calling it a night. See you guys in the morning," he said.

"Yeah, I'm going to bed, too," Isaiah added, standing. Everyone started cleaning up their stuff and heading to the tents, then. It became apparent that everyone was going to bed.

I wasn't ready to go to bed, yet, though. I wanted to smoke a cigarette.

Alone.

I watched as the other three all headed toward their tent. Isaiah and Zed took leaks first, and I could hear Cal snoring by the time they made it back to the tent. Yos wasn't in my eyeline, but he was hovering. I think he was tying up some food remnants somewhere where the bears wouldn't smell them or something. Then, I heard him walking toward me. Fortunately, I had already lit the cigarette.

"You coming?" he asked.

"I'm gonna smoke this cigarette first," I said, glancing up at him.

"Cool."

He turned then and after listening to his footsteps retreating, I could hear him unzipping the tent behind me.

Part of me wanted to wait until I was sure he was asleep before I joined him in the tent.

Part of me didn't.

It didn't take me long to smoke that cigarette. Maybe only three minutes. The whole time, I thought about the sex with Sam Uley—wondering if sex with Yos would be the same. Then, I flicked the butt of my cigarette in the glowing embers of what was left of the fire just before turning and walking to the tent.

Yos was silent as I unzipped it and crawled in and, for a minute, I wondered if he had actually fallen asleep as quickly as Cal had. But then he spoke.

"Did anyone douse the fire?" he asked.

"Oh. Shit. No. I'll go do that."

"Nah, I got it."

I was gonna protest, since he was already lying down, but he slipped on his sandals and was out of the tent before I could say anything else. I listened, and used the opportunity to take off my bra, reaching under my shirt and unclasping it. I pulled the straps off my shoulders inside the shirt just as I heard the hiss of the water hitting the ashes of the fire. I had just enough time to pull the bra out of my sleeve and toss it in the corner as I heard Yos's footsteps return to the tent. I was sitting bolt upright when he crawled back inside.

"Aw, honey. You didn't have to wait up," he teased.

"It's too dark for you to see me rolling my eyes at you," I said. "But I am."

"Are you alright?" he asked. "Do you need an extra blanket or anything?"

"No. I was just…getting situated."

"Oh. OK. Goodnight then," he said, flopping back down to the ground. He was still fully clothed, and apparently sleeping on top of his sleeping bag.

"Aren't you gonna get cold?" I asked.

"Nah. Not yet. Maybe after it cools off some."

His eyes were closed, already, so I crawled into _my _sleeping bag.

"Yos?" I whispered.

"Yeah?"

His eyes were still closed.

"What are you gonna do with a business degree?" I asked.

He opened his eyes then, and I could just barely see the whites of them in the dark. We were facing each other.

"I don't know. I was thinking maybe I could start some kind of boating business; take tourists out fishing or something. Something that would be good for the rez."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I don't know. I was just…wondering."

He didn't respond, but he didn't close his eyes, either. We were still looking at each other. I could hear his breathing, slow and even.

"You know," he whispered, finally. "I think I was wrong."

"About what?"

"I think I'm gonna get cold. You got room for me over there?"

I only hesitated for about a second. Before I realized it didn't matter if I slept with Yos.

"Yeah. I do."

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

Sex with Yos was different than with Sam Uley. Yos was…soft. In that way, I suppose it was the exact opposite of sex with Sam Uley. Yos was full of the sweet caresses and light kisses. He also talked a lot more. He was constantly asking me if what he did was OK. When he ran his hand over my back and I hissed involuntarily, he asked me what happened. He could feel the scabs. I insisted it was nothing, but he insisted that I be on top. He didn't want to hurt me.

Sex with Yos was...sweet.

Sex with Yos was nowhere near as good as sex with Sam Uley.

When it was over, I rolled off of him, only to have him wrap himself around me. He kissed the nape of my neck a few times before burying his head there. I stilled, wondering if he was going to make me talk to him or if he was going to sleep. Every muscle in my body tensed as I waited.

It didn't take long, though, for his breath to even out, indicating he had fallen asleep.

I felt suffocated, in that hot tent, his sweaty body trapping mine.

The only thing I wanted more than for Yos to remain asleep was to wriggle free from him. So after a few more minutes of listening to his breathing and feeling it on the back of my neck, I slipped out of his grasp carefully, trying not to wake him.

But he stirred. When his head popped up, I whispered.

"Just going for a smoke."

His head fell back to the sleeping bag then.

I was in too much of a hurry and it was too dark for me to try to get dressed without waking him further, so I just grabbed my cigarettes and a stray blanket and wrapped it around myself.

I sat outside smoking each cigarette very deliberately as I reflected on the sex. I wondered if it was my fault it hadn't been better. I wondered if it was because I was on top. I wondered if _Yos _had enjoyed it.

I wondered if the sex with Sam had been a fluke. Really, _neither _of them had given me an orgasm. But it hadn't even mattered with Sam. I wondered if the sex with Sam had just been so good because I had still been riding

the high from the dive. Or if it was because it was my first time.

Or if it was because there was something wrong with me.

I smoked the rest of my pack before I resigned myself to returning to the tent. When I crawled in, Yos was still asleep on top of my sleeping bag, so I passed out on his.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

When I woke up the next morning, I was glad Yos was still asleep, because I was still naked. I pulled on my clothes quickly and crept out of the tent, trying not to wake him.

When I saw the looks on the faces of the other guys, who were already eating breakfast, I realized they had heard what had happened the night before. They were all trying not to smile.

I had a feeling I was supposed to feel humiliated, but I didn't.

I didn't feel much of anything.

Fortunately, we didn't stay long that day. After breakfast, we broke down the tents. Yos didn't say anything to me about the sex, but I noticed he hovered a little closer that day, and touched me maybe a little more than was necessary. Each time, I found an excuse to move away from him.

The car ride back to La Push was the worst. All five of us were crammed into Zed's Civic. I was sitting in the middle of the backseat and Yos, of course, sat next to me. He threw his arm over my shoulder, like we were a couple or something. I realized trying to shrug it off would just make it a bigger deal than it was, so I just sat and stared out the window on the side opposite Yos.

They dropped me off first, and I thought for a second I was going to be able to make a clean break, since the other guys were all there. But Yos had to get out of the car to let me out, and he helped me retrieve some of my stuff from where it was strapped to the roof of the car.

"Thanks," I mumbled, as he handed me my bag.

He rested his hand on the car and leaned forward, cornering me.

"I'm really glad you came, Leah," he said.

"Yeah. Um. Me too. Thanks for inviting me."

"We should do it again some time."

"Uh. My parents are probably gonna kill me. Especially if they see a car full of guys dropping me off. I gotta go."

His brow furrowed, but he righted himself, freeing me from his lean.

"Yeah, sure. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure. Bye, Yos." Then I ducked my head down and looked at the others. "Bye, guys!"

I ran toward the house as I heard them mumbling their goodbyes.

Then I saw my mom watching from the window.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

Mom doesn't yell very often. Dad usually stays out of disciplining his kids entirely, unless Mom asks him to step in or we do something _really _crazy. But when he does, he yells. Mom, on the other hand—she just gets sad. It's more like that 'I'm-really-disappointed-in-you' tone of voice that makes the guilt soul-crushing.

I _really _prefer the yelling.

At least when she's mad at me, I can get mad back.

That day, Dad wasn't home.

Mom didn't even say anything to me right away, when I walked in. Maybe because Seth was standing in the kitchen, making a sandwich. But when I went into my room to drop my stuff on the floor, she followed. And when she entered my room, she closed the door behind her. So I knew I was in for it.

I sat down on the bed, because it looked like we were gonna be there for a while.

"Where have you been?" she asked, staring down at me.

"I was in the mountains, camping."

"Leah, I just saw four _men _drop you off."

"Yeah, Ma," I sighed. "I was with the guys. This isn't the Victorian era. It's possible to have platonic relationships with persons of the opposite sex."

"What I saw didn't look very platonic."

She sat down in the chair at my desk then and stared at me, waiting.

"That's because Yos wishes it wasn't. I can't control that."

"Are you having sex, Leah?"

"No."

I answered without even really thinking about it. It was only after I answered that I realized I _was_, in fact, sexually active.

"What if your father had been home right now? It would have killed him to see those boys dropping you off. He's giving himself an ulcer imagining you off in the mountains having sex with god-knows-who. We didn't even know who you were with, Leah! Sasha called the house looking for you and we didn't even know what to tell her! All we knew was that Seth saw you jump into someone's truck in the pouring rain with a backpack and that you told him you were going camping!"

"I'm sorry, Mom. I just didn't want to make the guys wait. It's not like you or Dad have cell phones. They invited me at the last minute."

"You could have called us at work, Leah!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't think about that!"

"Who _were _you with?"

"Yos and his friends."

"_Seniors_?"

"Some of them. But I'm going to be a senior in a couple of months. It's not like I'm Seth."

"Leah," she sighed. "What's going on with you?"

"_Nothing_, Mom. I swear. I just…I didn't know you guys were so stressed out about me and college and the smoking and stuff. It kind of stressed _me _out. I thought maybe it would be good for everyone if we got out of each other's hair this weekend."

"You thought it would stress us out _less _if you ran off to the mountains with a bunch of boys to spend the night?"

"Mom! It wasn't like that! We hiked! We played Frisbee! It was nothing, OK?"

"I don't know what to do anymore, Leah. I feel like you're too old to punish anymore. I really don't think grounding you would accomplish much of anything, anyway. I doubt you'd even care."

"Mom. I'm sorry. I… I won't do it again. I wasn't thinking."

"I'm not going to tell your father who you were with. As far as he's concerned, you were with a bunch of girlfriends," she said, standing up.

"OK."

Then, she walked out, closing the door behind her again.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

School on Monday was alright, at first. Until lunch time. That was when Sasha found me at the end of the football field.

"Leah!" she cried, sitting down next to me and grabbing my wrist, like it was something _really _urgent. I thought initially it was going to be something about Danny.

"What's up?" I asked, ashing my cigarette with my free hand. Her eyes were wide, but that wasn't so uncommon with Sasha.

"What's going _on_?"

"Huh?"

Sasha gave me a ride to school every morning, so we had already discussed the camping trip. She had been worried she was supposed to cover for me for the weekend, but I assured her everything was fine, and gave her the same line about Frisbee and hiking that I gave my mom, though I didn't bother editing out the drug use for Sasha.

I _did, _however, omit the sex with Yos.

"Why is everyone saying you and Yos had _sex_! ?"

"What?"

"Oh my god, Leah! Everyone's talking about it! He's _lying _to people! I think we have to castrate him!"

"Oh," I breathed, realizing Yos was about to be in a world of shit with Sasha if I didn't set her straight. It probably wasn't even his fault that the whole school knew. It was probably the guys who had overheard us.

"What do you mean, '_oh'_! ? Is it _true_?" she cried, tightening her grip on my wrist.

"Uh. Yeah. Kinda."

"_What_! ?"

I thought her eyes were gonna bug out of her head.

"It's not a big deal," I said, hoping, rather than believing that she would agree with me.

"How can you say that! Oh my god, Leah! You lost your virginity and you didn't even _tell _me! ? What the hell! ?"

I shrugged.

"I don't know. It just… It really _wasn't _a big deal. I was there. He was there. It just…happened."

"Are you _kidding_?" she asked, grabbing my other wrist, in an effort to force me to make eye contact with her, which I had been avoiding up to that point. When I glanced up, she was looking at me like I was crazy. Which was exactly what I had been dreading.

"Nope. That's pretty much all there is to know. I probably would have told you eventually."

"Didn't you _like _it? He didn't _hurt _you or anything, did he?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. He was really sweet. It was fine."

"Wow. You do _not _sound that enthusiastic about it."

I wanted to tell her I had had better. But I had absolutely no desire to tell her about Sam Uley.

"I guess I'm not. I don't plan on doing it with him again."

"Does he know that?" she asked, glancing toward the building and releasing my wrists, finally.

"I don't know. Why?"

"He just… I think he was about to come out here and find you when I headed him off."

"Oh shit. Really?" I asked, just before taking another drag of my cigarette.

"Yes! Oh god, Leah. You don't _like _him?"

"I like him fine, Sasha. I just… I'd rather just be friends with him."

"Then why did you _sleep _with him? Why did you _lose it _to him?"

"Why not?"

She just stared at me then. It was definitely one of those moments when Sasha and I were operating on different planes. And I think she was just realizing it. She sat back.

"OK. OK. I'm… Just give me a second to wrap my head around this, OK?"

"Sure," I said, shrugging.

"Christ," she whispered, staring at the ground. Then, she looked up at me. "Did it hurt?"

"Uh. Not really. Maybe a little."

"Did you use protection?"

"Yeah."

"Was it scary?"

"Not really."

"Did you like it at _all_?"

"Sure."

She fell silent, then, ostensibly to process it all. Then, she looked up again, as if suddenly remembering something.

"What about Sam Uley?"

"_Huh_?"

"I thought there was something going on between you and _Sam_. Not Yos. Aren't they friends? Do you not like _either _of them? Because I'm pretty sure I could find some other girls to line up for them."

She was getting a little irritating, then. Like there was something wrong with _me_. So I stood up, brushing the dirt off my jeans.

"Let them," I said.

"Leah!" she cried.

But I was done with the conversation.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns these characters and Greeen Goldish owns this story. This story is Pre- Twilight not AU.**

* * *

That night, I returned to the cliffs.

Again, I didn't hesitate. The moment I shed my clothing, I broke into a sprint and dove.

As soon as I surfaced in the water, I swam to the shore and climbed up the steep path and dove again.

Then I did it again.

And again.

It was impossible to think about Sasha or my parents or Sam or Yos when I was flying through the air. It was impossible to think about anything but the feeling of it.

I must have repeated it a dozen times.

I dove and swam and hiked until my legs and arms felt like jelly and my throat burned from breathing in the damp, salty air.

The last time I climbed up that path, feeling as though my heart might explode, I sank down to the ground at the edge of the cliff.

As I sat there, I half expected Sam Uley to come creeping out of the woods. I had given some thought to how he appeared that first night, and it didn't make much sense, unless he hung around the cliffs at night, too.

I _wasn't _expecting it when his old truck came rumbling up the hill. I only knew it was his because the headlights weren't on, and I could dimly see the white paint. His windows were down, but I didn't hear any music—only the crunch of the rocks under his tires.

I didn't even think to try to grab my clothes, which were lying about ten yards behind me. I was too exhausted to watch with anything but bored curiosity, really.

When he leapt out of the truck, a cigarette dangled from his lips and he began walking toward me. But something was different. He wasn't surrounded with his usual cloud of intensity. He didn't move with slow deliberation. Instead, he almost had a bounce in his step. It was as if he had deigned to come down from the heavens and interact with the plain people.

Just as I raised my eyebrows at him, he froze. Then, he held up one index finger, indicating that I should wait, just before turning on his heel and returning to the truck.

Apparently, he had forgotten something.

When he got to the truck, he stuck his head in the window and leaned in, reaching for something.

Unfortunately, his ass was still ethereal.

When he backed back out of the window, he had something bundled in his right hand.

As he approached, I realized it was a blanket. The look in his eyes was casual, as he tossed it to me, the cigarette still hanging from his mouth limply.

"Thanks," I mumbled, as he walked around behind me and sat down at my side. He squinted at me as I wrapped the blanket around myself, pulling the cigarette from his lips finally and exhaling slowly from the corner of his mouth. It was as if he was trying to figure out what he was looking at.

I guess we were both trying to figure out what he was looking at.

We were both silent, then—just looking at each other, waiting for the other to say something.

Finally, he spoke.

"How was camping?" he asked quietly.

"How'd you know?

"Everybody knows, Leah."

His tone was almost plaintive, like he was begging me to see what we both already knew.

I sighed then, my eyes returning to the water. I suppose I _did _know that it hadn't taken long for tales of my camping misadventures to spread throughout La Push. Sam reached into his pocket then and pulled out his Reds, offering them to me.

"Thanks," I mumbled again as I pulled one out.

He had a flame from his lighter waiting for me before the filter even hit my lips. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply as I wondered what the fuck was going on between me and Sam Uley.

"Any time."

When I opened my eyes and looked at him, he was smiling slightly.

"I don't get you," I said, finally.

"Me! ?" he cried. "What about you! ? You're the one who… who…"

"I know," I interrupted. "I don't get me, either."

His shock dissipated, then, and his brow furrowed. He stared at me a long moment before he raised his hand up to the top of the blanket, just behind my neck. He gently pushed it down, then, and I cringed as he leaned back and peered at the marks on my back.

"I'm-"

"Don't!" I cried, cutting him off.

He froze.

"Don't what?"

"Don't fucking apologize!"

And even though I could feel his eyes on me, I couldn't look at him. I knew he would misinterpret anything he saw on my face, so I continued staring at the ocean.

When I saw him move in the corner of my eye, I thought maybe I had finally chased him off.

But then I felt him around me.

He scooted behind me and, suddenly, I was sitting between his knees. I stilled, unsure of what he was about to do. Every hair on my body stood on end, though, when he carefully swept my hair over my shoulder. I could feel his breath on my neck, hot and unrelenting.

Then I felt him press his lips to my back.

When his breath drifted a few inches down and he gently kissed again, I realized he was kissing each of the scars on my back.

I closed my eyes as he continued, letting his intensity and his reverence wash over me. It allowed me to believe that maybe one of us knew what we were doing. And maybe he did.

Somehow, Sam Uley found the only way to quietly obliterate all of my protests.

As those lips moved slowly across my back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, I realized that it wasn't the style of the sex that had differentiated Sam from Yos.

It was something else.

After he had covered my entire back, he wrapped the blanket back around me and rested his wrists on his knees and his chin on my shoulder. It was bizarre, really, because he acted as if we had been sleeping together for years, and that such a wildly intimate moment was completely natural—like he hadn't just kissed the wounds he had fucked into me the first and only time we had had sex. He was brazen; unapologetic in his proximity to me.

I began to wonder what it would be like knowing Sam Uley.

After a long silence, he spoke quietly.

"It didn't work, did it?"

"What didn't work?" I asked.

"Sleeping with Yos."

I sucked in a breath involuntarily. I didn't know how he meant it, and I wasn't entirely sure I even _knew _what I was trying to accomplish by sleeping with Yos. But it was pretty clear that whatever it was _didn't _work.

I never answered him, but he didn't press it.

I think we both knew he already knew the answer.

We were both silent, then, staring out at the ocean. I felt my body finally relax some, but my blood still ran hot, with his body pressed to mine.

I don't know how long we sat like that.

A long time.

"If you were to kill yourself, how would you do it?" I asked, swiftly annihilating the perfect silence. It was only after the words left my lips that I heard how crazy I sounded. I regretted asking it immediately, as I realized he would likely recommend therapy or direct me to some hotline. But there was nothing for me to do then but cringe as I waited for his reaction, grateful that I couldn't see his face.

I was astonished when it only took him a few seconds, and his voice didn't sound surprised.

"Here."

"Huh?"

"I'd come here and jump."

I wanted to turn and look at him, but I didn't. His chin was still on my shoulder, and I could feel his jaw moving as he spoke. I was both confused and relieved by his answer—confused because I couldn't envision it and relieved because he had answered, without hesitating.

Maybe we were both freaks.

"I don't understand. Jumping here wouldn't kill you. And I'm pretty sure killing yourself isn't something you want to get halfway done."

"It'd get the job done if you did it right. Get good and drunk beforehand, impairing your ability to swim. Wait for the right moment—a particularly fierce storm, when the waters are rough. That'd get you good and dead pretty quick, I imagine."

Then I _did _turn to him, shifting around so that we were facing each other. He took out a cigarette and lit it, hardly noticing the look on my face.

"How _could _you?"

He looked skyward, then, to exhale his smoke up at the stars instead of at me before meeting my gaze.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"How could you do that to this place! ? This isn't… It's too good for that here!"

"What are you talking about? It'd be… That's _precisely _why I'd do it here."

"But…it's like…_sacred_. I thought… No one would ever dive again!" I cried.

"Oh, I doubt that."

"_I _wouldn't."

"I bet you would. You love it too much."

"What do _you _know?" I shot back.

But he changed the subject.

"Then what about you?"

"Huh?"

"How would you do it?"

"Oh." I was still sitting between his knees, but I was cross legged, so my knees were tucked under where his were propped up. I glanced down at my hands, which were in my lap. "I'd take a razor to my wrists."

I looked up at him, then, to gauge his reaction. He just exhaled another smooth stream of smoke up at the sky, before looking down at my hands. Then, he did yet another thing I wasn't expecting—because he _never _did what I expected: he placed his cigarette between my lips, just before taking my right wrist in both his hands and lifting it to his mouth, proceeding to kiss it as gently as he had my back, down the veins that were filled with the blood that burned through them with ever increasing intensity. He didn't look at me as he did it. He was focused, as if my wrist held the secrets of the universe. And when he finished with my right wrist, he repeated with my left.

Then, he released my arm and looked up at me casually and retrieved his cigarette. Again, it was as if what he had just done had been the most natural thing in the world.

As if it wasn't ridiculously strange.

And ridiculously sexy.

As if my wrists weren't more on fire in that moment than they had ever been before.

When he took another draw of his cigarette, I wanted to kiss him. But his eyes weren't filled with the lust I had seen that first night. They looked almost …bored.

"Why did you do that?" I asked.

It seemed I was determined to spoil the moment with words.

He exhaled over his shoulder again before answering.

"I don't know. I guess it seemed like the thing to do."

I searched his face, then, because it seemed Sam Uley's words offered little to my understanding of him. Or maybe they offered just enough.

Then, I reached up and took the cigarette from between his lips. He didn't say anything. He only watched as I reached over his leg and stubbed it out into the ground next to us. When I returned my eyes to his, he met my gaze.

And my lips.

I felt the blanket again fall from my shoulders as I tilted up to my knees and pressed myself to him, pushing my tongue into his mouth. His head tilted back to accommodate me, as I knelt over him.

When I felt his arms around my hips, it was all the encouragement I needed, because he held on _tight_, like being attached to me was the most important thing in his world. So I moved my lips from his mouth to his neck, hoping he would lean back and surrender to the ground.

The last thing I was expecting was for him to speak.

"Leah."

I ignored him, and kept working my way down his neck.

"Leah. Stop."

I froze then.

"What?" I asked, pulling away.

"I'm not gonna do this again."

"_What_? Why _not_?"

"Because that's exactly what you would say if I asked you why you slept with Yos."

"_What?_"

"I'm not here to help you self destruct, Leah. I'm here because I wanna be. Let me know when you wanna be here, too."

"_What?" _I repeated. Because I didn't know what the fuck he meant. I just knew it sounded _really _condescending.

But he was already untangling himself from me. He removed my arms from around his neck and scooted back before standing up. Then, he held out his hand, to help me up.

I stood without taking it.

"Can I give you a ride home?" he asked.

"_What_?"

"Leah. Last time we had sex, you refused to talk to me. And I'm pretty sure Yos is gonna be in that boat, too, now. So spare me the indignation. I'm just trying to keep myself relevant."

"What are you _talking _about?"

"I'm talking about _you_. Now let me give you a ride home so that we can go to school tomorrow and maybe if I approach you, you won't go running."

I felt ridiculous. I was standing in front of him in only my underwear, completely rejected. And on top of it, he was talking to me like I was three. I turned and picked up the blanket, only to realize it was his. Which made me feel _more _ridiculous. So instead of wrapping it around me, I thrust it at him. Then, I stalked toward where the pile of my clothes lay and began getting dressed.

"Leah," he pleaded, following me.

I buttoned up my jeans, and was about to put on my t-shirt.

"I liked you better when you didn't talk."

He grabbed my wrist then, forcing me to look at him.

"Don't think for a second that just because I talk and have opinions and might be just a little less mysterious to you that I can't still fuck you senseless," he sneered.

I glared at him, not so much because he was being a cocky son of a bitch as because he was just making me want it more than I already did.

I snatched my wrist away and put on my shirt. Then, I picked up my shoes and my cigarettes and walked away.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

When I got dressed for school the next morning, I dug into the bottom of my dresser. It took me a minute to find what I was looking for, but there it was, buried at the bottom, tags still attached.

One time when Sasha and I had been shopping at Port Angeles, she had made me try on a denim miniskirt. I resisted, because I never wore skirts. They made me uncomfortable. But Sasha told me it looked great on me, and I knew she was right. It _did _look great. But it just wasn't…_me_. Being _sexy _wasn't exactly me. When I refused to buy it, she bought it for me.

That morning, I cut off the tags.

Because I was going to make Sam Uley surrender.

I was going to make Sam Uley _beg_.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

Sasha's jaw was unhinged when I got into her car.

"Leah! You're wearing _that_! ? _Now_?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

"I've tried getting you to wear that every weekend since the weather warmed up! What is going _on _with you?"

"Nothing, Sasha," I said, buckling my seatbelt. When she didn't shift the car into drive, I looked at her.

"Do I need to be worried about you? Does this have to do with Yos?"

"No. This definitely _doesn't _have to do with Yos. And you definitely don't need to be worried about _me_."

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

At school, everyone stared. It was hard to tell how many of them were staring because of the miniskirt versus how many were staring because it was _Leah Clearwater _in a miniskirt.

I didn't care.

Except when I passed Sam Uley in the hallway.

I saw his eyes rake over me.

And when they finally met mine, I smirked.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

At lunch, when I walked to the end of the football field, Sam was practically on my heels. When I stopped at my usual spot, he grabbed my wrist before I could even sit and kept walking. I smirked again as he took me past the treeline, off school property.

When we were sufficiently hidden, he let go of my hand and faced me, so close our noses probably would have been touching if not for the six or so inches he had on me.

"What are you doing, Leah?"

I raised my eyebrows and pursed my lips.

"I'm smoking a cigarette, Sam."

He narrowed his eyes at me, and I smiled. Then, he pulled out his cigarettes and lit one. For one brief moment, I almost lost my nerve, because I thought maybe we really had come out to the woods to do nothing but smoke. But then he grabbed my shoulders and turned me around, so that my back was to him. He breathed a cloud of smoke over my shoulder, just before dropping to his knees.

When I felt his hand reach up my skirt, though, it wasn't about triumph anymore. I couldn't concentrate on anything other than the fact that Sam Uley was finally touching me again.

He pulled my panties down, just before grabbing my waist and pulling me down into his lap, my back to his

chest, much like it had been the night before.

Not knowing what he was going to do next made every touch like an electric shock. He scooted us both back so that he was leaning against the trunk of a tree, just before grabbing my breast with his left hand. Then, his other hand swept up my thigh, back up my skirt.

His cheek was pressed to mine, and I could still see the cigarette that hung lazily from his lips as he rubbed circles into my clit with his thumb and thrust his fingers inside me.

It was almost cruel, how methodical he was about it. He knew _exactly _what he was doing, as I squirmed and moaned and grabbed his knees to brace myself for the release that I had only ever experienced by myself, before.

It was exponentially better when Sam Uley did it.

One more reason to hate him.

All the while, he smoked that cigarette.

After my entire body tensed and my toes curled and the fire left my veins, I fell back into his chest.

Only then did he remove that cigarette from his lips. Just long enough to kiss my neck before standing up.

I wasn't sure which of us had been defeated that day.

Maybe we both had.

I pulled up my panties and tried to regain some semblance of dignity as he reached out his hand. Again, he acted as if what had just happened had been the most natural thing in the world, glancing back toward the football field casually and exhaling smoke.

That time, I took his hand, and he pulled me to my feet. Then, he took the cigarette from his lips and placed it between mine, just before arching one eyebrow at me, turning and walking away.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

When I went to the parking lot to meet Sasha after school that day, Yos was leaning against her car, waiting for me.

"Hey, Leah. What's up?"

I tried to remain casual.

"Hey, Yos. Not much. What's going on?" I asked, stopping next to him.

"You're a popular girl, you know that?"

"Um. If you say so."

"I've been trying to talk to you for two days now and other people keep beating me to it. Are you blowing me off or something?"

"What do you mean?"

He leaned toward me then and lowered his voice.

"We had sex, Leah."

"Uh. Yeah. I am…aware of that fact."

He looked surprised by my answer.

"Oh. So… that's it, then?" he asked, confused.

"Um. I… Was it supposed to be more?" I stammered.

"Damn, girl. You know how to wound a guy," he said, clutching his chest dramatically.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know!"

"Nah, it's cool. No worries. I think I see what's going on, here," he said, nodding at something over my shoulder. I turned and saw Sam standing across the lot, smoking a cigarette and glancing at the two of us.

"Oh. Listen, Yos… I don't know what's going on there. I didn't mean to-"

"Nah," he interrupted me. "Don't worry about it. It's cool. I had fun. I was hoping maybe we could do it again, see where things could go. But I won't cry myself to sleep over it or anything. Don't feel bad."

"Oh," I said dumbly. Because I didn't know what to say. I hadn't really been expecting him to cry himself to sleep over it. But I hadn't really been expecting him to want more, either.

"I'll see you around, Leah."

"Yeah, man. I still wanna hang out, you know?" And I meant it. I liked Yos.

"Yeah, sure," he said, pushing himself off the car and smiling.

When he was gone, I looked up to where Sam had been, but he had vanished…having been replaced by Sasha, who was headed straight toward me.

"That's it," she said, as we both got into the car. "I'm kidnapping you."

"Huh?"

"We're going to my house. And you're not leaving until you tell me everything."

I groaned, but I knew it was pointless trying to evade her.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

Sasha had seen Sam Uley follow me out past the football field that day. She had also seen Yos talking to me at her car and Sam watching. So I had a lot of blanks to fill in. Which I did, to an extent. I just didn't fill in _all _of them.

I told her that sex with Yos had been a mistake, because I wasn't interested in dating him. That it had just sort of happened.

"But you're interested in dating Sam Uley?" she asked. We were sitting cross legged on her bed, facing one another. I really needed a cigarette.

"I… I don't know."

"What happened at lunch today? Why did he follow you out there?"

"I told you already. We smoke together."

I didn't want to tell her about any of it. Not because I was ashamed, but because it was too precious—like if I said the words out loud, the things that Sam Uley and I had done to one another would cease to exist. I didn't even like _thinking _about telling her. The sentences that formed in my mind sounded ludicrous.

But it wasn't ludicrous.

"What do you talk about?" she asked.

"Not a whole lot. He doesn't… He's quiet."

I think she literally swooned then, because her eyes glazed over and she sighed, pressing one hand to her chest.

"That is so…_hot_," she breathed. I thought I had lost her for a second, but then she refocused her attention on me. "You have _got _to be more forthcoming, Leah. What are the few words he says? What is his body language? What do you think his intentions are?"

I sighed.

"I think he wants to have sex with me. It's probably because of Yos. I'm sure all the guys think I'm easy now."

"Don't say that! That's awful! Besides, he was looking at you longingly before Yos! You two were exchanging long suffering stares at the bonfire!"

"Yeah, OK. Maybe it's not because of Yos. Whatever."

"So, has he made a move?"

"No," I lied.

"Have _you_?"

"No."

"Are you _going _to? I mean… What do _you _want to happen?" she pressed.

"I don't know, Sasha," I said, sighing again. "He's not really dating material, is he?"

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because he's Sam Uley!"

"What does _that _mean?"

"It means he's quiet and broody and perfect and probably doesn't date anyone. I'm not sure I'd want him _to _date anyone. That would kind of ruin it, wouldn't it?"

"Are you _kidding_?" she asked. It felt like the twelfth time she had asked me that question that day. "What if he was dating _you?"_

"And what? Are we supposed to go to prom together? Can you imagine Sam Uley buying me a corsage and me in a dress? It's… It's not…"

"It's not what, Leah?"

"It's not _us_."

"Exactly."

"Huh?"

"I think maybe you're the only girl who could tame Sam Uley. And maybe Sam Uley's the only guy who could tame _you_."

"Tame? What are you talking about, Sasha? You sound ridiculous."

"Whatever. I saw the way he was looking at you and Yos after school today. Just tell me when to pick out my bridesmaid dress."

"Oh my god, Sasha. Take me home, now. My mom will have a fit if I'm not there when she gets home from work."

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

When I went to the cliffs that night, he was already there, sitting where he had the night before, staring at the ocean. He glanced up at my approach and scooted over some, making room. But he didn't look surprised.

He never really looked surprised.

Well, other than when he saw the miniskirt that morning.

I had changed into jeans that night, before I got questions from my parents. I'm pretty sure he noticed, because I saw his eyes scan my body just before I sat down. But he didn't say anything. He just offered me a cigarette.

"I've got one. Thanks," I said, pulling out one of mine. I let him light it, though. He had already fingerbanged me that day. Letting him light my cigarette didn't seem like a big deal.

"Wasn't sure you'd come," he mused.

"Really? You seemed pretty sure this afternoon."

His head snapped toward me, then, and I found I had succeeded in surprising Sam Uley twice that day. I tried to suppress a smile, and then I saw one corner of his mouth curl up, and one of his perfect dimples appeared on the side that wasn't holding his cigarette.

Sam Uley rarely held cigarettes in his hands.

"I liked that skirt," he mumbled, eyes smiling.

"Really?" I asked with mock surprise.

He laughed then, and it was…different. Laughing wasn't something we did a whole lot of. It was like a rare, exotic bird that might fly away if we were too loud.

For the first time, I felt at ease with Sam Uley.

"So?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and making a move to get up.

I was confused.

"What?" I asked.

He was standing over me, then, holding his hand out.

"We gonna dive or what?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight  
**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns these characters and Greeen Goldish owns this story. This story is Pre- Twilight not AU.**

* * *

We spent the rest of the night diving. First he would go, and I would watch. Then, he would watch me from the water. Then, we would trek back up the side of the cliff and repeat it. Each time, Sam did something different. Eventually, he talked me into trying a flip. I didn't land it perfectly, but I managed a full rotation.

It was amazing.

We must have each gone a dozen times or more, before we finally crawled back up to the cliff and collapsed in exhaustion. We were both on our backs, but he reached across me for his cigarettes and his lighter, which lay on the ground where we had abandoned everything before diving. After lighting one, he handed it to me and then lit one for himself.

"Where's your truck?" I asked.

"Oh, it's around the bend. I prefer an unobstructed view. Why?" he asked, squinting at me and plucking some stray tobacco from his lips.

"Any chance you brought that blanket?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, jumping up. "I'll be right back."

I watched his near naked body disappear around the trees and wondered why that night felt so different—why the laughter was easy and the tension gone. I wondered if it was good or bad. Or both.

When he reappeared, he already had one blanket draped over his shoulders and another in his right hand, which he tossed to me. The cigarette, as always, dangled loosely from his lips.

"Thanks," I said, sitting up and wrapping it around me

"Sure thing. Gets a little chilly without a fire," he said, sitting across from me.

"Yeah."

"Speaking of which—when are you gonna make your debut?"

"Huh?"

"When are you gonna dive in front of someone other than me?"

"Oh. I guess I hadn't thought about it. I guess… I don't know. I kind of like having it to myself."

"Really? You're the one that bitches about the fact that the guys monopolize the field. Just think about the way their mouths would hang if you did it one day."

"Yeah. That's…true. I just… It's kind of…"

"You like keeping shit to yourself, don't you?" he interrupted.

"Why do you say that?" I asked, flicking some ashes from my cigarette.

"You didn't tell anyone about us. And from what I gather, you weren't the one telling people about what happened with Yos, either."

"Why would I want to advertise that shit? I'm sure I'm already the rez whore."

"Nah. As far as this town's concerned, you just lost it to Yos."

"_What_? Why do… Jesus Christ! Why are people so nosy! ?" I knew everyone knew I had slept with Yos. I _didn't _know they all knew the status of my virginity.

"Does it bother you?"

"That people know all about my sex life! ? I…" And then I thought about it for a second and shrugged. "No. I guess not. I guess it doesn't matter." I was staring at my cigarette, but I looked up at him, then. That's when I realized that that wasn't exactly what he had meant. "Oh. You meant… Oh! I get it! It bugs _you _that people think I lost it to Yos, _doesn't _it?"

He bit his lip, because he knew he was busted.

I threw back my head and laughed. He had to wait for the cackling to subside before he could respond.

"You know. I think maybe you _shouldn't _dive in front of anybody else," he said, finally.

"Why's that?"

"I think that might bug me more than your sleeping with Yos did."

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

Sam offered to give me a ride home that night. When I told him I preferred walking, he asked if he could walk me. When I told him 'sure,' I think I surprised us both.

It seemed I was done running from Sam Uley.

We were quiet for most of the walk. In fact, I don't think we uttered a single word. He just strode along next to me like it was something he did every night.

I stopped when we were about fifty yards from my house.

"You should probably go from here. I haven't exactly been using the front door lately."

"Oh yeah? Which window is yours? I need to know which one to peek in."

"Was that a joke?"

"Kind of. But only because I'm thinking about peeking in it less than I'm planning on crawling through it," he said, flicking some ashes to the ground as I tried not to give him the reaction I'm sure he was hoping for. When he looked back up at me, he smiled.

I grabbed his hand. When he realized what I was doing, his smile broadened into a grin.

I took him with me around the back of the house. When we got to my bedroom window, I turned toward him and raised my eyebrows. He nodded, still grinning. Then, just as I turned to actually climb through it, he grabbed my wrist. As soon as I turned back around to look at him, his mouth was on mine, and it only took that millisecond for him to rekindle every flame of desire I had felt for him through the course of that night. And not once that night had he given any indication that he had any intention of putting out that fire.

Even as he kissed me, his hands didn't wander, as they had other times. He merely held my wrist with one and his cigarette in the other. And when his lips left mine, they moved to my forehead, which he kissed quickly before smiling, turning, and walking away.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

At school the next day, all the teachers started talking about exams. Apparently, we were approaching the end of the school year a little faster than I realized.

I'd like to say that I cared.

The truth is, it was harder than ever to care about school.

By the time lunch rolled around, it was raining again. I stood at the cafeteria door, debating about whether to brave it for a smoke or not, when Sasha walked up to me.

"Whatever happened to my umbrella?" she asked.

"Oh. Uh… I'm sorry. I forgot to give it back. I think it's at home."

"Well, I guess that means you're stuck with me for lunch today, huh?" she asked, smiling. I rolled my eyes. But before I could respond, Sam appeared next to Sasha.

And he was holding her umbrella.

"Thought you might need this," he said, handing it to me.

Sasha didn't say anything. She didn't have to—her eyes said it all.

"Oh. Uh, thanks," I stammered.

"But I'm about to go to my truck for a smoke, if you wanna come."

"Oh. Uh. I… I think… I'll… No thanks."

He shrugged, but his right dimple betrayed the fact that he wanted to smile.

"Suit yourself."

Then, he turned and pushed the door open. Sasha and I watched as he jogged through the rain to the parking lot.

For once, Sasha didn't make a huge scene. Thank god. She just gave me a look-probably because there were a ton of people around.

"I'm gonna step outside for a smoke," I said.

"I'm coming with you."

She looped her arm through mine, then, and we both walked to the end of the football field, sharing the umbrella. The fact that Sasha was willing to stay in such close proximity to me as I smoked spoke to how desperate she was to find out why Sam Uley had had her umbrella.

"Spill it," she said, before we had even reached the beginning of the football field.

"I forgot. He and I shared your umbrella that day. I finished my cigarette before he finished his. I guess he was the one holding it and I forgot it was yours, since I don't usually carry one. At least he returned it, right?" I asked, smiling sheepishly.

"Why didn't you go to his truck with him?"

"I don't know. That just feels really conspicuous, I guess."

"Since when are you afraid of detentions?"

"That's not what I meant."

"You mean you don't want everyone to see you and Sam Uley together?"

"I guess," I said, shrugging.

"Why?"

"I don't want people to get the wrong idea."

"What's the wrong idea?"

"I don't know!"

I was growing increasingly frustrated, because it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep things from Sasha and everyone else. But I also didn't know why it was so important to me to keep those things quiet. Yet it was the _only _thing that seemed important to me.

"Leah, why are you defensive about this?" Sasha asked. I could tell from her face that I was beginning to hurt her feelings. She told me everything, after all. It seemed wrong that I kept things from her.

I sighed.

"I don't really know, Sasha," I said, handing her the handle of the umbrella so that I could light a cigarette.

"Did you _sleep _with him?"

"No."

The lie left my lips before I even thought about it, or realized it was a lie.

"Are you _thinking _about sleeping with him?"

"Yeah."

"How well do you know him?" she asked, her voice suddenly quieter. And that's when I knew she had gone to her plane of existence, where it was really, really important to know a guy before sleeping with him. It was a place that Sasha hadn't yet realized I didn't live in.

"Better than I knew Yos," I snapped.

"Oh, Leah. But you regret that, don't you?"

"No, Sasha! I don't! Why? Should I?"

"I… I'm sorry! I just thought…"

"What? That I'm like you? I'm not, Sasha! I don't have a bunch of puritanical hang ups about sex! It's just sex! I don't know why you're making that into such a big deal! I'm not gonna let you make me feel ashamed about it!"

She looked at me, then, like I had just killed her puppy, and I realized I had perhaps been a little over the top. Even if I had meant it.

It was always easy to read Sasha. So I saw that moment when the hurt she was feeling from my words turned to anger. I could see it on her face as easily as I could see the color of her eyes.

Really, it was kind of a relief when she got angry.

Without another word, she turned and walked back to school, leaving me to get drenched by the rain.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

After class that day, I stood just outside the school, under some cover, and stared at the parking lot. I was pretty sure Sasha was still pissed, but I didn't know if she was so pissed that she'd make me walk home in the rain.

For my part, I wasn't going to beg her for a ride.

So I waited.

She finally appeared, at the edge of the parking lot, with her umbrella. She didn't walk to her car, though. She was searching the parking lot.

When her eyes finally landed on me, we stared at one another for a moment.

"Hey."

I whirled around. Sam had a knack for sneaking up on me.

"Hey," I said, looking up at him.

"Need a ride?"

I don't know how he knew. I don't know if he picked up on it just from the way she and I were looking at each other across that parking lot or if he had seen her storm off from the football field without me that day at lunch. All I knew was that I felt a mixture of relief and embarrassment.

"Yeah."

I didn't even think to look at Sasha as we jogged through the rain to his truck.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

We drove in silence.

I stared out my window at the pouring rain and thought about everything that had happened between me and Sasha. I wondered if I was completely to blame, or if what was happening to us was inevitable. Maybe we _were _too different to be friends, in the end.

I didn't even want to think about guys coming between us. That just seemed too cliché and stupid. I told myself it was a coincidence that the rift had formed at the same time that she had started seeing Danny and I had started…whatever-the-fuck I had started with Sam.

I completely forgot where I was until we neared my house.

"Oh! You can stop here. This is fine," I said.

"Huh? Your house is still a block away. It's pouring out there."

"I know. I'll be fine. It's better this way. Trust me."

He raised his eyebrows at me skeptically, but slowed the car and put it in park.

Sometimes it was really nice that Sam spoke so little.

"Thanks for the ride," I said, picking up my backpack.

"Any time."

I hopped out then and ran the rest of the way home.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

That night, I didn't go to the cliffs. It was still raining.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

Thursday morning, I had no idea whether Sasha was going to pick me up or not.

One thing we _did _have in common was that we were both stubborn.

Once I got my books together, I didn't wait around to see. I just started walking.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

At lunch that day, the rain let up just long enough for me to smoke a cigarette behind the gym.

Thank god.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

After school, I found myself standing in the same spot I had the afternoon before, watching the rain and the parking lot. Sasha and I hadn't even made eye contact the entire day.

Sam didn't offer me a ride that day.

Instead, he just caught my hand in his as he came out of the school and kept walking, with me in tow.

Everyone stared.

Including Sasha.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

I forgot where I was again until Sam put the car in park, a block away from my house, just as the day before. Then, he turned and looked at me. We had yet to speak a single word to each other that day.

"Thanks," I said. "Hopefully I'll stop getting the cold shoulder soon."

"I don't mind giving you a ride, Leah."

"Well. Thanks all the same."

"You need a ride in the morning, too?"

"Um. I walked today. It wasn't a big deal."

He raised an eyebrow at me.

"I'll see you in the morning, then," he said. He fell silent a moment and I was just about to get out of the truck when he added, "If not sooner."

Then, we both grinned.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

But it was raining that night.

I thought about going to the cliffs despite the rain, but I knew it was stupid. He wouldn't be there. And I wasn't going to dive in the middle of a storm. I tried to convince myself that the disappointment had more to do with the diving than with him.

I lay on my back in my bed, as it had healed up for the most part, and stared at the ceiling, longing for a cigarette.

I thought about what it had meant that Sam seemed to announce to everyone that we were a couple that day. I wondered if I should have been pissed at him for doing it, without really talking to me first.

Was it really so different than when Yos threw his arm over my shoulder in the car that day after camping?

Why were they both so eager to mark their territory?

_Was _it just about marking his territory?

Then, I realized it _was _different than when Yos had done it.

And it was as I pondered what made it different that my thoughts were suddenly interrupted when I heard my window screech open. I shot out of bed, terrified.

I stood, catching my breath and willing my heartbeat to slow when I realized what it was.

_Who _it was.

His sopping t-shirt clung to him as he climbed through that window, and the sight of his arms flexing like that instantly replaced the initial fear with hopeless desire.

I wondered if Sam Uley would ever stop having that effect on me, as my heart resumed thumping so loud I was sure he could hear it.

After righting himself, he looked at me and grinned, dripping all over my floor. He seemed huge in the tiny space, dwarfing me and all of the insignificant things in my room.

I held a finger to my lips, indicating that he needed to be quiet. Only then did I realize I was standing in only my underwear and an old, worn t-shirt.

I completely forgot to be self conscious, though, when he pulled me to him roughly and began kissing me.

It was like that first night. It was what I had been _dying _for. I'm not sure a kiss could have been more determined, as his tongue worked it's way around my mouth and he pressed me against his chest. I could feel the rain quickly soak through my own t-shirt and his free hand glide down my side and settle on my ass. I wanted to moan, as he dug his fingers into me, but I settled for wrapping my arms tightly around his neck.

Sam Uley was the best thing to ever enter my bedroom.

His hand suddenly released my ass and worked its way up my shirt. He grabbed my breast and I realized that it was the first time he had had unimpeded access to my nipples as he began rubbing one with his thumb. The reactions my body had to his touch were overwhelming.

I felt like I was about to lose it… yet Sam was only getting started.

I grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and started jerking it up over his body. He let go of me only long enough to help me dispose of the wet shirt and pull mine off of me, as well.

Then, he pressed me back to his chest with a whole new level of determination, as his unyielding body pushed against my breasts.

It was hard to breathe.

It was hard to think.

It was hard to do anything but not scream from the fire that felt like it was burning me alive.

His hands wound their way down to my thighs and suddenly, he was picking me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he walked to the bed, just before he lowered me onto it.

I reluctantly loosened my legs from around him when he stood. Then, I saw him pull something out of his pocket. When he held it between his teeth before unbuttoning his jeans and dropping them to the floor, I realized it was a condom.

I wondered what the hell the point of a condom was, considering we had already fucked without one.

Then I remembered that I had had sex with Yos since I last had sex with Sam.

And he still had no idea that I was on birth control.

When he lowered himself back onto me, he did it slowly; quietly. But the weight of him on me alone was enough for me to again burst into flames, hotter than before. He didn't suspend himself above me. He crushed me, unapologetically. I clung to him, and he rolled us to our sides.

My bed creaked from the weight, but he moved slowly. We were both silent, breathing fast and heavy into each other's ears as he finally pushed himself into me.

He never let go of me, as he continued pushing into me, slowly; quietly. It was like being wrapped up in that sleeping bag with Yos, yet so much more intimate. Maybe because I was wrapped up in _him_. He sucked on my neck and I rested my chin on his shoulder as he rocked us slowly. We clung to each other like it was the end of the world—like if we didn't hold on tight, we'd fly away into nothing.

Maybe we would.

He was so slow and so careful that the only sound was our breathing. It was so different than the first time, but still so right. I wanted it to last forever.

It was when I sank my teeth into his shoulder, biting back a moan, that he came. I knew from the way his body tensed around me, squeezing me impossibly closer to him.

Thank god he didn't let go immediately, because I felt I really would fly away if he had. He stayed pressed against me and I felt one hand slide from my back down to my waist. Then, it crept between our stomachs, and I realized Sam wasn't going to be the only one to come that night.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

He did eventually let go of me, but only to cover my mouth with his other hand as I climaxed.

Thank god he did.

Then, he grinned like the cat that swallowed the canary. As soon as I came down from it enough to realize how smug he was, I pinched him in the waist. His entire body jumped just a little, and I realized I had found a weakness. Then, he threw his head back against the pillow and laughed silently. Never had I seen his face so filled with mirth. It was almost like he loved that I had found his weakness.

I rolled over and looked at the clock on my nightstand, to find that it was almost three in the morning. When I turned back to him, he caught my face in his hands and began kissing me again.

Part of me was scared that we were going to fall asleep, and my parents would find him in the morning.

A bigger part of me didn't care, as his arm wove around me again and my cheek found his chest. I lay there, my head on his chest, for what seemed like forever.

I did fall asleep.

I didn't wake up until he got up to put his clothes on. I don't know how he managed to stay awake because, when I looked at my clock again, it was almost four. We had been lying there for almost an hour. Maybe he drifted off and woke up again. I don't know.

I pulled the sheet around me and watched as he put on his clothes. In what little light there was, I could still watch the way his body moved fluidly. It was really a majestic thing to watch, even in a cramped little room at four in the morning.

It was still raining.

It probably didn't matter, considering his clothes were still soaked.

His hair had mostly dried by then, though, and it brushed my face as he leaned over and kissed me one last time before leaping out the window, back into the rain.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

When I left my house Friday morning, I could see his truck parked down the street, where he dropped me off. I felt a little ridiculous that I had made him do it. I realized I needed to talk to my parents.

When I got into the truck, he didn't say anything. He just offered me a draw of his cigarette.

I took it from his fingertips and inhaled from it deeply before handing it back.

"You can have it. I've got more," he said.

"So do I."

But I didn't get one out.

And when he noticed, he passed his back to me.

And we shared that cigarette all the way to school.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

Something changed that day. It wasn't in the way we acted around other people, though. Sam never made a move to hold my hand again, or throw his arm over my shoulder. Sure, we arrived at school together, and people noticed. But we didn't make out in the school parking lot or slip our hands into each other's pockets or anything. We just went about our business like any other day.

What changed was how we acted around each _other_—when no one else was looking.

When I was walking to the end of the football field, he jogged to catch up with me and _then _slung his arm around my waist. He already had a cigarette hanging from his lips, and I smirked.

"What?" he mumbled around it, one perfect dimple showing as he smiled crookedly.

"Nothing."

"You know there's another bonfire tomorrow?" he asked, as we neared our usual spot.

I don't know when it became 'our' spot instead of 'my' spot.

"No, I didn't. I guess I don't really have my finger on the pulse anymore. Sasha's always been my source of information for stuff like that," I said, wrinkling my nose as I realized the fight was dragging on a bit long.

His hand moved from my waist to my hand as he sat down, and he pulled me into his lap.

"That sucks," he mumbled around the cigarette, just before finally pulling it from his mouth and exhaling smoothly. "What happened there, anyway?"

He had me situated so that I was sideways on his lap, and we could look at one another. So I'm pretty sure he saw the surprise on my face when he asked me about Sasha.

Sam and I never talked about shit like that.

It was weird.

"Um. I don't know, really. I think… We're just really different and we fight over stupid stuff sometimes. I think she thinks I'm… I don't know. I don't think she approves of all of my life choices, lately."

He raised his eyebrows then as he took another drag of his cigarette before handing it to me. Only then did I even notice that I had yet to light one of my own.

"Life choices?"

I bit my lip.

"Yeah. I… I don't think she's a big fan of the casual sex, in particular."

He raised his eyebrows even higher, then.

"Are we talking about me or Yos, here?"

"Yos, mostly. She doesn't really know about you."

"Does that render me even more irrelevant than Yos? You didn't even tell your best friend?" he asked.

"You're very concerned about your relevance, aren't you?"

I was teasing. But he didn't laugh.

"Yeah. I am."

I opened my mouth to answer, but it took me a second to figure out what to say.

"I… You're more relevant than Yos, OK?"

"But I still fall into the casual sex category?" he asked

"I…" But I didn't know how to finish the sentence. Worse, he didn't let me off the hook. He only stared, eyes boring into me. "I don't know," I said.

Because I didn't.

He raised an eyebrow, before taking another draw of his cigarette and glancing over toward the school. I worried for a second that I had actually hurt his feelings, until he spoke.

"I know what your hang up is."

"Really?" I was actually hopeful that he could explain it to me, because maybe it would help me figure out what the hell I was doing.

"Yeah. You've got me pigeonholed. Like everybody else. Sam Uley's the kid from the wrong side of the tracks. Womanizer. Damaged. All that shit. You don't think I rise to the level of relationship material."

I could tell that he was trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice as he said it.

"That's… That's not it!" I cried, even though I wasn't sure if that wasn't a part of it.

"Oh yeah? Then what is it?"

"I think maybe… Maybe it's that _I'm _not relationship material! I don't know how it works! All the couples I see around me… It all seems so trite! I can't imagine you… I can't imagine us…." I couldn't finish a sentence. I felt ridiculous even trying.

Suddenly, his brow smoothed out and the darkness in his eyes receded. I even saw the hint of a dimple, before he again turned serious.

"But you still think I'm gonna hurt you, don't you?" he asked.

And that was the moment I had a revelation.

"Sam… That's the thing," I whispered. "I'm not sure you _could _hurt me. I'm not sure _anyone _could."

I didn't tell him that I was more terrified of that than anything.

His brow knit together again and, as he looked at me, I thought his eyes were going to penetrate my very existence.

Then, he took the cigarette from my fingers and chucked it toward the field, just before cupping my face in his hands and kissing me.

But, for once, his lips didn't set me on fire.

It was like his lips were trying to piece me back together.

When he stopped, he leaned his forehead against mine and looked at me.

"Maybe that's what we do then," he whispered. "Maybe we're supposed to hurt the shit out of each other."

With that one small promise, I suddenly knew that Sam Uley was the only one with even the prayer of a chance of hurting me.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt hope.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. **

* * *

When he dropped me off that day, I told him he could drop me at my actual house.

He raised his eyebrows, but he didn't say anything. He just pulled down the street and parked outside it.

I was probably just being paranoid, anyway. Seth would be the only one home.

"Thanks," I mumbled, handing him the cigarette we had been sharing.

Just as I hopped out and was about to close the door, he spoke.

"Need a ride to the bonfire?"

I stopped, realizing I hadn't given much thought to what it would be like going to a bonfire without Sasha at my side.

I wondered if she was going.

I wondered how uncomfortable it would be to walk there and arrive by myself.

I wondered if arriving with Sam would be more uncomfortable.

"Uh… I hadn't…thought about it. But…um… I can walk it."

"You sure?"

The more I thought about it, the more determined I became to go alone. I didn't want Sam to become my social crutch.

"Yeah. But I might see you there."

"OK."

I slammed the door shut then before turning and walking into the house.

And thanked god the face in the window that day wasn't my mother's.

It was Seth's.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

"Was that _Sam Uley_?" Seth asked, the second I walked in the door.

"Yeah."

"Why is _he _giving you a ride home?" he pressed, following me into the kitchen, where I grabbed an apple.

"Sasha couldn't today."

"Why not?"

It was like he was a damn dog, nipping at my heels.

"Butt out, Seth!" I cried, just before disappearing into my room and slamming the door.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

I returned to the cliffs that night.

Sam wasn't there, but it was just as well. I went that night to dive.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

Saturday, it was sunny and warm, so I went to the beach with a book and my cigarettes. It worked out, because I was still lounging and reading when people started arriving for the bonfire.

Unfortunately, I didn't realize how much attention my bikini was going to garner until Cal and Zed paid a visit to my little stretch of sand, on the heels of a visit from Yos and Isaiah.

That was when I put my clothes back on.

I tried to continue reading despite the dwindling light. I was still, for all intents and purposes, alone.

When it got too dark to even pretend to read, I scanned the crowd. I realized I could probably join Yos and the others, but they weren't who I was looking for. I saw Sam. He was talking to Danny, of all people. But they weren't who I was looking for, either.

I finally spotted her, not far from Danny and Sam, talking to Jacob and his friends. Maybe she had given them a ride again.

Only then did my eyes snap back to Danny and Sam, as I felt suddenly paranoid about what they could be discussing. Surely, Sam and I hadn't reached a stage in our relationship that people were treating him like my ambassador. The thought mortified me. Just as I stood and shook out my towel, determined to make sure that wasn't the case, Sam's eyes met mine and he smiled, nodding in acknowledgment. Danny turned then to see what Sam was looking at, and he waved at me awkwardly. I tried to smile, probably unconvincingly.

Then, I rolled up my towel before tucking it under my arm and walking toward them.

They both saw me coming, and Danny stepped aside a little to allow me into their conversation. But they both fell silent as I approached.

"Hey, Leah. What's up?" he asked.

"Not much. Too dark to read, anymore. How are you?"

"Pretty good. Just trying to get through exams and all that, you know?"

"Yeah, sure."

He was looking at his shoes, then, and no one spoke. It was awkward.

"Uh. I think I'm gonna see if Isaiah got a hold of those fireworks," Danny finally said. "I'll see you two around."

"Yeah. Later, Danny," I said, as he slinked away.

When I turned to Sam, he was smoking his cigarette, casual as ever.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Nothing. I just…"

The truth was, I suddenly felt like an idiot. They were probably just talking about fireworks.

"I hear I missed your bikini," he said, grinning.

"Oh god."

"I was kinda hoping it would make a reappearance later tonight."

I glanced over at Jacob and Sasha involuntarily, then. And Sasha was looking back. I wasn't really paying attention to Sam.

"Uh. Unlikely," I mumbled.

"Really? You're not gonna dive?" he asked, lowering his voice.

That was when I returned my attention to him.

"Oh. I hadn't really thought about it."

He flicked his cigarette butt into the bonfire then.

"You OK?"

"Yeah. It's just… This is stupid, right? I should go talk to her, right?"

"Whatever you want, Babe."

"OK. I'm gonna go talk to her."

I dropped my towel and my book in the sand, then, and walked over to Sasha. I would have felt bad about forcing Jacob out of the conversation if… Well, if he weren't such a daily annoyance, anyway.

"Beat it, Jacob. Take your goonies with you."

He made a face at me, but didn't protest, and the three of them loped off. Sasha turned to me, all summer pastels and flip flops and sunshine. Her demeanor, however, provided a dark juxtaposition to her appearance.

"Sasha. What's going on with us?" I asked. I figured direct was the best approach.

"_Us_? Leah, what's going on with _you_?"

"Why does it just have to be about me?" I asked, a little indignant.

"You're the one sneaking around with Sam Uley and having sex and doing drugs and not telling me anything!"

"Sasha, you can't take any of that personally. And I thought you _wanted _me to get together with Sam."

"Not like this. I… I think you were right about him. I think he's a bad influence on you."

"Sasha! You sound like my mother!"

"Well, someone has to say it, Leah! We both know your parents don't know what's going on if _I _don't!"

"You don't know anything about Sam."

"And you do? Just like you knew all about Yos before you slept with him?"

"Sasha! You have to stop! I don't need another mother! I need a friend! I need you to stop judging me!"

"No, I think you need a ride to _school_."

I closed my eyes then, and tried not to get angry. It was a stupid thing to get angry over. She wasn't listening to me. I was wasting my time. It wasn't worth getting upset.

"Sasha, I need you to listen to me. This thing with Sam might be poorly timed. I realize what it must look like to you. But… If I'm having any issues, it has nothing to do with him. And if _you and I _are having issues, it has nothing to do with him. I'm not… Do you really think I'm so impressionable that I'm gonna let some guy affect my friendship with you?"

"Have you told your parents?"

"Told them what?"

"About Sam."

"Huh? What would I tell them?"

"That you're dating him."

"Um. I think it's a little premature for that," I said.

"But not too early to sleep with him?"

"Christ, Sasha! When are you gonna ease up with that shit! ?"

"My puritanical hang ups, you mean?" she shot back.

"Yes! Fuck!"

As soon as I said it, I realized a lot of people were staring at us. It was probably only my last outburst they heard, but it was still really uncomfortable. And I knew it was much worse for Sasha than for me. It was the type of thing that really embarrassed her.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. But she was looking at her feet. She didn't answer. And mere seconds later, Danny appeared at her elbow, signaling it was time for me to leave.

I wanted to punch Danny in the face. He acted as if he knew my best friend better than me—as if he needed to _protect _her from me.

It made me sick.

But it was just one more example of how Sasha and I were different. Because the last thing I wanted was to be seen seeking comfort from Sam.

I retreated, joining Yos and the others under the cliffs.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

Getting high helped some.

But the voice in the back of my head told me that I was doing exactly what Sasha expected, and that she was surely judging me from across the beach.

I tried to care.

When people started diving, I felt a rush of adrenaline just considering joining.

Which is when I knew I had to.

Yos and I walked up the cliff together.

I was surprised when we got to the top and Sam was still fully clothed. Yos abandoned me to go get in line with the other divers, so I strode over to Sam.

"Aren't you diving?" I asked.

He glanced down at me and grinned.

"And miss yours? No way."

"You seem awfully confident that I'm going to."

"Aren't you?" he asked.

When I narrowed my eyes at him instead of answering, he laughed.

We both knew I wouldn't be able to just stand by and watch the others.

We cheered with the rest of the crowd as Isaiah dove, followed by Cal. Each guy tried to one up the one before. Each dive got more elaborate…though they weren't all pulled off flawlessly. Yos followed Cal, and as soon as he surfaced below the cliff, the cheering died down, as he had been the last in line. The others were still trudging up the side of the hill or drinking beer.

"Sam!" someone called. It got the attention of others, who all started cheering for Sam to dive, surprised that he hadn't already. He only shook his head and looked down at me. I glared at him, but he nudged me forward with his elbow.

And I knew it was time.

As I walked toward the pile of clothes the others had left behind, my eyes briefly met Sasha's. I saw the exact moment that she realized what I was doing, because that's when her eyes widened.

It was also the exact moment others realized what I was doing, because the cheering suddenly swelled to a deafening level. Only, as I peeled off my tank top, it was also accompanied by catcalls.

I was probably most self conscious as I shimmied out of my shorts. But after dropping them on the ground, I turned and faced the path to the end of the cliff. And then, even though it had transformed from the silent, empty rock surface to which I was accustomed into a loud tunnel of onlookers, it was like nothing existed in that moment but me and the edge of that cliff.

So I ran.

And when I leapt through the air, propelling myself further than felt human, I felt that burst of ecstasy that couldn't be duplicated—not even by sex with Sam Uley.

Then, I completed one perfect flip—just as I had practiced the night before, before plunging into the depths of the dark water.

When I emerged, I could hear the yells echoing down from above. Others on the beach were cheering and clapping as well. I could see Yos standing in the surf, whistling.

I'd be lying if I said it wasn't exhilarating.

I was swimming toward Yos when I heard another splash before the cheering had even abated.

I smiled, because I knew exactly who it was.

I waited for him to surface, then. And when his head finally popped up, he ran his hand through his hair before peering around him. It only took him a second to spot me, and then he was grinning again.

He swam toward me and, just as I was about to say something about trying to steal my thunder, he grabbed me and pressed his lips to mine.

Of course, that just incited even more whistling and catcalls.

I smiled into the kiss, despite my self consciousness. It was hard not to.

He pulled away then and laughed.

"You _know _that shit drives me wild, don't you?" he asked.

"Hey, Uley—you've been driving girls all over this reservation wild for _years _with your diving. You're just getting a taste of your own medicine, now."

He laughed again before taking my hand. Then, we swam to the shore together.

Yos greeted us there, and when he slapped me on the back, I realized I was one of the guys again.

I was grateful that Yos was so laid back about it all.

"Damn, girl. You sure upstaged us all, huh?" he said, laughing.

I grinned as the three of us began the trek up the path.

"Sorry I look so much better than you in a bikini, Yos."

"Oh, shut it!" Sam cried. "They're not cheering for the bikini!"

Yos snorted then and Sam's head whipped around to face him. I couldn't help but laugh. But Sam persisted.

"OK, maybe _some _of it was for the bikini. But really—she was _fantastic_. Did you see her _flip_, Yos?"

"Yeah, man. Just barely. I knew something major was coming because I heard the cheering. I thought maybe it was gonna be you, so I was confused as hell when I heard the catcalls," he said.

All three of us laughed then, and I felt Sam wrap his arm around my waist as we trudged up the sandy hill. When I looked up, he was looking down at me with that same gleam in his eye that he got right before he leapt from the cliff.

"It's all coming together for me now," Yos mused.

"What is?" I asked.

"The two of you," he answered.

"What do you mean?"

"This guy's always talking about cliff diving like it's some sort of religious experience," he said, nodding toward Sam. "It makes sense now that the two of _you _are hooking up."

I glanced up at Sam, then, and he shrugged. But I could see that phantom dimple. I knew Yos was onto something.

Never in a million years would I have predicted the reception we got when we topped the crest of the hill, though. The cheering started all over again, and everyone was coming up to me and, like…_congratulating _me. There were high fives, and more whistles and someone shoved a beer in my hand.

Frankly, it was a little overwhelming.

So I did the only thing I could think to do.

I dove again.

It was actually probably the best thing I could've done, because people started to get used to the idea of me diving with the other guys. I stopped being such a spectacle and I became just another diver.

So I guess I was still a spectacle, but only in as much as we all were.

After about five rotations through the line of divers, we all collapsed around the fire at the top of the cliff. Sam got there before me and he was waiting, with a towel outstretched. When I walked to him, he wrapped me in it and hugged me, still grinning.

It was really strange to think that a week prior, we had been shouting at each other on that cliff, unclear of where we stood with one another.

We sat down, then, with the others. Sam propped his knees up and I sat between them, wrapped in the towel. He had another towel draped loosely over his shoulders.

"So what gives, Leah? Has Sam secretly been teaching you to dive?" Cal asked, as Yos handed me a beer.

"Fuck that! I taught myself!" I cried. They all laughed. "Not that there's… There's not a whole lot to it, really. Is there? Other than having the guts?"

"Yeah, I guess that's true," Yos answered, as I sipped the beer. "I mean, there's technique and form and stuff, but I guess you don't really learn those from other people, either. Except maybe by watching."

I felt Sam rest his chin on my shoulder, then.

"So… Wait," Jacob spoke up. "Leah, I thought..."

But before he could finish his sentence, Quil punched him in the arm.

"Thought what?" Sam asked. And if I had been in a position to do so, I probably would have punched _Sam _in the arm. Because I was almost positive that whatever Jacob was about to ask was better left unsaid.

"I just… I thought Leah was with Yos," he said.

Because only Jacob Black is oblivious enough to say something like that out loud.

There was a lot of lip biting and stifled laughter around the campfire, then. My eyes flashed quickly to Sasha, who was sitting with Danny at the picnic table behind those sitting opposite the fire from us. The spots around the fire were reserved for those who dove, and I have to admit that I got some satisfaction in earning my place there. But when I saw what looked like pity in Sasha's eyes, I could feel the anger bubbling up inside of me. It was clear that Sasha felt that I should feel embarrassed and ashamed about Jacob's question.

"Nah," Yos answered, shaking his head. "I _would _say that Leah traded up, but I don't think I was ever in the running."

It was maybe the only thing anyone could have said that could have distracted me from my rage in that moment. Because it was probably the _classiest _thing that Yos ever could have said.

He glanced over at us and, even though I couldn't see Sam's face, I'm pretty sure his probably looked much like my own; for my part, I was smiling at Yos gratefully. He winked at us just before turning back to Jacob.

"Oh," Jacob said. But he was still looking at us instead of Yos. "So, you two are like…a couple now?" he asked.

The question caught me off guard and I must have looked like a deer in headlights, because everyone proceeded to laugh at me, to the point that Sam leaned forward to try to get a look at my face and began laughing with them. I buried my face in my hands, completely mortified that I had fumbled the question so exquisitely, as only I could.

Sam, of course, recovered exquisitely.

"Nah, man. We're just bonin'. Right, Lee-lee?" he teased, just before planting a kiss on my temple as the others continued to laugh. Then, he returned his chin to my shoulder as I took another drink of my beer. I turned my head and offered the beer to Sam, but he shook his head.

"I don't drink," he whispered in my ear.

"Oh."

Only then did I recall a vague memory of my mother lamenting poor Sam Uley and his alcoholic father, back when we were kids.

Fortunately, the others had moved on to some other topic. I just pulled the towel tighter around me and relaxed back into Sam's chest, letting the fire warm my toes and watching the light of the flames dancing across the faces of those around me. And every once in a while, when no one was looking, Sam would kiss my neck.

And I knew then that he already had the potential to fulfill his promise.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

Things came to a head at my house on Sunday.

I didn't realize my parents had even seen Sam drop me off the night before until that morning, not long after I had rolled out of bed. I was scrounging around the kitchen for some food when I heard my mom call me.

"Leah. Can you come in here for a second?"

I could tell from her tone that it wasn't going to be pretty.

When I entered the living room, my mom was sitting bolt upright, on the edge of the couch. My dad was in his

recliner, slightly more relaxed. But from the look on my mom's face, I knew she was about to confront me. And the fact that she had recruited Dad to be her backup meant it was serious.

Worse, Seth had been banished to his room.

"What's up?" I asked, trying to remain casual as I sat on the other end of the couch, facing her.

"Where were you last night?" she asked

"At the bonfire. Like everyone else."

"Who were you with?"

"What do you mean? I went by myself."

"Why weren't you with Sasha?"

"Whoa. Why am I getting interrogated?" I asked, glancing at my Dad. His face was creased with apprehension, but little else. He didn't look angry.

"Leah, we got a call from Sasha's mom this morning while you were asleep. Apparently Sasha went home crying."

"_What_?"

"Don't get mad at Sasha. I don't think she intended to snitch on you. She was just so distraught. She told her mom that she was worried about you—that you've changed. That you're hanging out with the wrong people and doing drugs."

"_What?_"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I never thought in a million years that Sasha would tell our _parents _about anything.

"Who was that that dropped you off last night?"

I was still too dumbstruck to speak. She had to repeat the question before I could answer. Lying didn't even cross my mind. Not a whole lot was crossing my mind, at that point.

"Sam Uley."

"When did you start hanging out with Sam Uley?"

"Huh? I don't know. A few weeks ago. Why?"

"Does he do drugs?"

"I… I've never seen him do drugs. I don't know. I know he doesn't drink."

My mom sighed then, like she didn't believe me.

"Why did you stop hanging out with Sasha?" she continued.

"I didn't! I mean… She's mad at me, OK? I tried to work it out with her last night at the bonfire, but she just got more pissed!"

"Why is she angry at you?"

"I don't know, Mom! I think she thinks I've replaced her with Sam or something!"

"So you _are _dating Sam?"

"Uh. Yeah, I guess. It's kind of new."

She sighed again, like that was the worst news I could have given her. Which kind of pissed me off.

"Leah, do you really think Sam Uley is going to be good for you?"

"Mom! What the hell! ? What do you have against Sam?"

"He comes from a broken home. His family…"

"Mom!"

But then Dad interrupted.

"Sue, honey—let's be fair. None of that is his fault."

I loved my dad.

Mom threw him a look over her shoulder.

"Harry! I don't want him seeing our daughter if he's doing drugs!"

"She just told you she's never seen him do drugs," he said plaintively.

Dad was wonderful like that. He defended me, even though I knew it scared him to do it. He was a mild mannered guy. He hated conflict, but he was inviting a shit storm by doing exactly the opposite of what Mom had hauled him in there to do. And maybe he wasn't even defending me so much as he was defending Sam, because I think we _all _knew Mom was being unfair. If there was anything my dad always stood for, it was truth and justice.

Well, and cheeseburgers.

"And you believe her, Harry! ? When she's been sneaking around with him! ? Sasha said that Leah's been doing drugs! Of course she's going to lie about it!"

She was yelling then.

"No I'm not," I said flatly. They both snapped their attention back to me, then. I shrugged. "I smoke pot sometimes."

"Leah!" my mom cried.

But Dad?

He just laughed.

It was _awesome_.

Then, it was like Mom didn't know who to scream at more. She kept looking from me to Dad and back to me, as her face got progressively redder.

Finally, she landed on Dad.

"Harry! How can you laugh! ?"

"I'm sorry!" he choked out. "I just… Were you expecting her to say that? I wasn't!"

Then, I had to laugh a little, too.

Bad idea.

"Leah Clearwater!" she screamed, her head snapping back in my direction. "I don't see how this is funny! You're seventeen and you're wrecking your life! Maybe I wouldn't mind your dating Sam Uley if it was just you dating Sam Uley, and maybe I wouldn't mind your lackadaisical attitude about school and your future, if it was just that. Hell, maybe I wouldn't even mind the marijuana if it was just you trying out drugs one time! But when you combine all these things, Leah—you're going down the wrong path! And even though you're a Daddy's girl and he may think it's funny now, he's not going to think it's funny when you're just another unemployed, alcoholic Quileute before you even hit thirty!"

No one was laughing, then.

The room fell silent.

I looked at her for a long time, and she looked right back.

Neither of us looked at Dad, but his discomfort was almost palpable.

"Mom," I began, calmly. "Just because I'm dating Sam Uley and I smoke pot occasionally doesn't mean I'm headed to alcoholic unemployment. I'm sorry that you don't understand why I don't care about college. But you guys have taught me that family and community are my priorities. Things like money and reputation don't matter. I know that Sam's reputation doesn't matter. What matters is who he really is. I'm not going to pretend to know everything about him right now, but I'm getting to know him. I like to think that you guys instilled in me the ability to judge character. Like, I know that Sasha is a good person. I know that she's just mad at me right now. I know that my relationship with her is important. I know that you guys love me. I know that I don't need more than what you've already given me. I _don't _necessarily think that ambition is always a virtue. Sometimes the ability to be content with everything you've been given is pretty virtuous. And I'm content with what you guys have given me. So, no: I don't feel the need to go off somewhere hundreds of miles away from here to get a degree when I know I can stay here and be a contributing member of my family and my community."

When I finished, the room was again silent as they both looked at me and took in my words. I saw all the anger drain out of Mom's face. It was replaced with what looked like sadness. I cringed, knowing things were about to get worse.

"Leah, it breaks my heart to listen to how articulate and smart you are in moments like this and know that you don't intend to ever go to college."

"Those are not traits that only benefit those that seek higher education, Mom. I'm pretty sure they'll serve me well no matter what I end up doing."

She stared at me a moment longer.

"Leah," she said quietly. "Can we…make a deal?"

"I'm not going to let you bribe me out of Sam, if that's what you're thinking."

"No. I'm not naïve enough to think that I can persuade you not to see him. But I would like you to promise me that you will at least _apply _to colleges, when the time comes. That way, you will have the _option _of going if you change your mind between now and when the admissions process rolls around."

"Oh," I said. Because she really wasn't asking that much. At all.

"And I would like you to visit at least one college campus."

"O….Kay," I said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because it felt like I was getting off too easy. I had just admitted to doing drugs, for god's sake.

"And I'm also not naïve enough to think that you'll stop doing drugs just because I tell you to, but I would like you to seriously think about why you do them. And I want you to make sure that your little brother never, _ever _catches wind of the fact that you do."

"OK," I said, nodding. But I was still apprehensive.

And then it came.

"And you need to bring Sam here so that we can meet him properly."

"Mom!" I cried.

"I don't want to hear it, Leah! We both know I'm not asking much!"

"That's… We _just _started dating! He's going to think I'm crazy! And it's not like he's a stranger! You guys have met him before!"

"Yes, but he wasn't dating my daughter before."

"But—we're not even…"

I was going to say 'serious,' but the word caught in my throat.

"What, Leah?"

"Do you know how humiliating that will be? Can you at least give me a couple of months or something? I mean, what if I bring him to the house and we break up a week later? It's still so new!"

"Fine. You've got until the summer. But if you're still seeing Sam Uley by the time the school year ends and he hasn't stepped foot in this house, so help me god, I will make your life miserable."

"Fine!"

"Good!"

"Can I go eat breakfast now! ?"

"Yes."

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

I didn't go to the cliffs that night. I figured there was some potential that I'd get caught, and I really didn't want to rock the boat.

I was both relieved and disappointed when Sam didn't crawl through my window, either.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

When he picked me up Monday morning, it was like any other morning. He grinned at me when I got in, but he didn't ask me where I had been the night before or kiss me or say anything, really. He just threw the car back into gear and we drove in silence, both in our own heads, I guess.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

At lunch that day, there was little time for cigarettes, as we laid in the warm dirt, hands all over each other, lips skimming skin. There certainly weren't any words.

~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~

It's possible that we didn't utter a single word in each other's presence that day until the car ride home, when I reached for my cigarettes and cursed under my breath, remembering I was out.

He chuckled, plucking the one from his lips and handing it to me.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"No problem. Sorry you're stuck smoking something non-exploitative."

I tried to glare at him, but I think I mostly just smiled.

"Aren't all cigarettes exploitative?" I countered.

He grinned.

"How do you get all the way to Forks on a regular basis for smokes, anyway? You don't even have a car."

"Oh. Yeah… That's why I'm out, actually. Usually, Sasha and I go into Forks at least once a week."

"Oh, damn. You two still haven't cooled your jets?" he asked. His eyes were still on the road, but he reached over and plucked the cigarette out of my fingertips, taking another draw before handing it back to me. I don't know why he didn't just light another for himself.

"I guess not. I tried, at the bonfire," I said, shrugging.

"Yeah. That didn't look like it went over too well," he said.

I sighed.

He was silent a moment.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked, glancing over at me. He looked nervous. It was so endearing, I almost laughed a little.

"Not really," I answered. "But thank you."

"You, uh… I mean, I probably shouldn't enable you, but do you want a ride into Forks some time?"

I wanted to kiss him, then. It was like he kept finding ways to plug his fingers into all of my leaks. But I also didn't want to impose on him that much. Forks was fifteen miles away. It was bad enough he was driving me to and from school every day.

"Um. You don't have to do that," I said. "I mean, if you're ever on your way there, anyway, I wouldn't mind tagging along."

"How about tomorrow, then?" he asked. The truck slowed down, as we had reached my house. After putting it in park, he looked over at me expectantly.

I was skeptical.

"You just _happen _to be going into Forks tomorrow?" I asked.

"Yeah. Every Tuesday, actually."

"Really?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes. Really. Look, will these get you through until then?" he asked, tossing me what was left of his Reds.

"You don't have to give me your cigarettes."

"Leah—I don't mind, OK? I've got more. Just take the cigarettes and let me take you into Forks tomorrow."

I grinned.

And just as I was about to throw my arms around him in gratitude, we both heard a scream from inside the house.

It was Seth.


End file.
